Mounties and the Monarchy
By Postcard
Rating: - R. International Stories. Drama. Episode Related. Holiday. Humour. Romance. Attempted Rape. H/C.
Pairings: - Fraser/Thatcher. Thatcher/Male. Turnbull/Female.
Teaser: - Remember, remember, the 5th of November with gunpowder, treason and plots.
Disclaimer: - The Due South characters in this story are not mine and anything else Due South isn't mine either. I do not mean to infringe on copyrights held by any copyright holders for Due South. The story and all of the new characters, however, are mine (copyright September 2000 by Postcard on all original story content.) Please do not reproduce for anything other than personal reading without the written consent of author. This story is not written for profit and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.
Author's note: - This story is set in season 2 after WATEM and before ATQH, and is for my friend Marybeth Weber. TYK to Marybeth and Kiki for your kind comments and to Kiki for beta-ing this story. Hope you all enjoy reading this and any constructive comments are welcome at postcard@manutd.com
Explanation: - The celebration that is in this story, is an old English celebration. The celebration is held on the 5th of November, and is known as 'Guy Fawkes Day', or, 'Bonfire Night'. It is celebrated with bonfires, fireworks, and the carrying of "guys" through the streets.
It's a celebration of stopping the Gunpowder Plot in 1605. The object of the plot was a conspiracy by English Roman Catholics, to blow up the Parliament building, while King James I, his queen, his oldest son, and his chief ministers met within on Nov 5, 1605. The leader of the plot was Robert Catesby and his four co-conspirators were---Thomas Winter, Thomas Percy, John Wright, and the most famous of them all; Guy Fawkes.
In the spring of 1605 the conspirators rented a cellar that extended under the palace at Westminster. There, Fawkes, concealed at least 20 barrels of gunpowder. The conspirators then separated until the meeting of Parliament. In the interim the need for broader support persuaded Catesby to include more conspirators. One of these, Francis Tresham, warned his Catholic brother-in-law Lord Monteagle not to attend Parliament on November 5, and Monteagle alerted the government to the plot.
Fawkes was discovered in the cellar on the night of November 4-5 and under torture revealed the names of the conspirators. Catesby, Percy, and two others were killed while resisting arrest, and the rest were tried and executed (Jan. 31, 1606). In January 1606 Parliament established November 5 as a day of public thanksgiving.
History lesson over<BG>Now for the story...
'Remember, remember, the 5th of November, with gunpowder, treason and plots'. (Excerpt from a British Rhyme about Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot.)
* * * * *
From somewhere in North America a computer message, by an alias known as the 'Legislator', was being sent to an alias known as 'Guy Fawkes' in Europe.
Legislator: - I have confirmation I'm in the party. Is the stationary ready?
Guy Fawkes: - Yes. It will be waiting for you when you arrive. Let Bonfire Night commence.
* * * * *
On the second floor of the Canadian Consulate, the two male Mounties stood face to face in a confrontational position. Afraid that someone might overhear, Fraser quickly closed the door to his office.
"I can't. I just can't." The younger Mountie was adamant and folded his arms in front of him.
"Yes, you can."
"No---I can't."
"Turnbull, please, I have to swear you to silence---only temporarily of course. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't dream of asking you."
"You're asking me to lie and I can't---I won't." Turnbull obstinately stuck his chin out.
"No, Turnbull, I'm not asking you to lie, just---have a momentary lapse of memory. Amnesia if you will."
"She won't believe me. She'll…she'll sh-sh-shoot me."
"No, she won't shoot you Turnbull. If she shoots anyone it will be me. Furthermore, I'm certain that she will believe you when you tell her you've forgotten. She's used to you forgetting things."
"I do not forget things. I just have trouble recalling what people have said sometimes." Seeing the long sceptical look directed at him, Turnbull grudgingly admitted, "Okay, a lot of the time."
"So you'll momentarily---forget?"
"If I do, she'll shout at me."
"She might not…all right, yes, I admit it's most probable that she'll shout at you, but she'll shout even more if you tell her. Do you really want to be on the receiving end of that?" Turnbull repeatedly shook his head 'NO'. "I didn't think so. I can rely on you then?"
"All right. But if she fires me, I'm taking you down with me." Curled up underneath Fraser's desk, Dief had lip read the conversation. Fearing the outcome, the wolf whined and then placed his paws over his eyes.
* * * * *
"Hey Benny!" Ray greeted across the bullpen. "You're still in one piece. I take it ya haven't told her then!"
Tailed by Dief, Fraser approached Ray's desk and solemnly shook his head. "No. I---I couldn't."
"You can't keep hiding it from her, she's gonna find out."
"Yes, I'm well aware of that Ray, but if I can find the right moment…"
"There's never gonna be a 'right moment' Benny. You're just stalling coz ya know 'The Dragon Lady's' gonna go ape at ya."
"Please don't call her that Ray. And what you just said isn't true, I'm not stalling."
"Noooo of course ya not!"
"All right, all right, I admit it, maybe I'm stalling a bit. I just want to get her when she's in a good…well I mean, er, one of her better moods."
Ray snorted. "Yeah, well, that ain't gonna happen. I've not seen her in a good mood yet. She hates ya guts---and mine too for some reason. Don't know why she's not fallen for my charms, but---" Ray shrugged, "the woman ain't down for me. She's not got good taste. That's all I can put it down to!"
"We fly out tonight and I know I'm going to have to tell her before then but…"
A wicked smile plastered itself on Ray's face. "I can't wait to see the look on her face when ya do tell her." Ray started to laugh.
"Ray, please, it's not funny. It's a very serious matter."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I know it's serious. It's just that, well, she went bananas when ya told her I was comin and---now this guy who she hates more than me's comin---she's gonna rip ya balls off and use em for baseball."
"Erm---speaking of women who don't particularly like me at the moment, is---er---is Francesca still angry with me?"
"Yep. You bet she is."
"Oh dear. I was hoping that maybe on the off chance she had forgiven me!"
"Not a snowball's chance in hell. She's still really pissed at ya for not inviting her to come with us and for inviting 'The Dragon…' I mean the Inspector."
Fraser sighed. "The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt Francesca's feelings in any way. I tried to explain to her, I really did, that I could only take five people with me. I really tried to explain to her that I had been invited to meet the Queen because of protecting the diplomats in the NAFTA incident and, stopping the law suit by Lyndon Buxley against Canada. I repeatedly told her that I had invited you, Dief and Inspector Thatcher because you had all been involved in those incidents. It would have been unfair for me not to have invited you all."
"Frannie's point is 'what about Turnbull? He wasn't involved in those cases'."
"You know what he's like! Turnbull worships the Queen. It would have been cruel to leave him out."
"Yeah, but try telling that to Frannie. And what about this other guy? The dude with the name I can't pronounce? The one who Thatcher's gonna hate ya even more for inviting?"
"Ah! Well---You know I tried to get out of that one. He insisted on coming and---well---of sorts, he did play a part. Granted he didn't have anything to do with the outcome but---he's a senior officer and I couldn't really refuse him!"
"Yeah, course ya couldn't! Let's hope Thatcher'll see it like that. But I'm guessing she won't."
* * * * *
Inspector Meg Thatcher stood beside her luggage in the foyer of the Canadian Consulate, waiting for Fraser, Dief and Detective Vecchio. "So Turnbull, I've been meaning to ask Fraser who the sixth person is who's coming with us, but he never seems to be around or he's been too busy to talk. Do you know who it is?"
"Mmmme Sir?"
"Yes, do you know who the final person is who Fraser's invited?"
"I---I can't really say Sir."
"Why not? You've both been as thick as thieves recently, surely he's told you?" Thatcher eyed him suspiciously.
"Yyyes he's told me. It's just that---I've…"
"Yes, go on constable, you've what?"
"I've---forgotten." Turnbull all but whispered the last word.
"You've forgotten?" Turnbull meekly nodded, and Thatcher shook her head and sighed. "That doesn't surprise me, but it's just not good enough, is it? Really though Turnbull, you'd think that even you could remember who the other person is who's coming to meet the Queen with us. I mean, it's not like it's an everyday experience. It would be nice to know who to expect to come walking through the door! And who I'll be spending a considerable amount of time with! Think Turnbull, can't you remember?" Turnbull shook his head. "Oh, well, I suppose I'll find out pretty soon."
The large consulate door opening answered Meg's question. Suitcase in hand, in swaggered Henri Cloutier, followed by Ray, Dief and Fraser. At the sight of Henri, Meg's entire body froze and she found it momentarily difficult to swallow.
"Meg. How lovely to see you again," Henri greeted with outstretched arms. Meg instinctually backed away from him.
Glaring at Fraser, Meg managed to utter, "Henri, I didn't know that you were coming with us."
"I wouldn't miss this trip for the world." Henri smiled at Meg, causing her to feel sick.
Walking towards the waiting taxi's Thatcher grabbed Fraser's arm and hissed in his ear, "why the hell did you invite Henri? I thought you understood what he was like!"
"I'm sorry sir, I really am. I didn't invite him; he invited himself. I tried to get out of it, but he insisted on coming."
"Obviously you didn't try hard enough to get out of it. Honestly Fraser, for such a so-called brave man, sometimes you can be spineless. You should have told him to get stuffed." Fraser hung his head in shame. "And because you've put me in this---awkward position, you're going to sit next to me in the taxi and on the plane. There is no way I'm letting you leave me on my own to sit next to Henri. It's the least you can do. Understand?"
Fraser cleared his throat. "Yes sir. Of course."
"Furthermore Fraser, you remember the ruse that we had going the last time Henri was here?"
"Erm---yes."
"Good, because we're going to take off where we left it. I want Henri to get the message loud and clear to leave me alone and you're going to help me do it."
"I am?"
"Yes Fraser. You are."
"Understood Sir."
"Just because I pretend to be nice to you in front of Henri, don't think for one second that I like you or that I've forgiven you. As far as I'm concerned, you're a spineless, glory hunting moron."
* * * * *
The Mounties, Dief and Ray arrived at the quaint village that was tucked away in the countryside, on the outskirts of London. Passing a series of thatched cottages, the village church, a pub called 'The Swan' and the village Post Office, the taxis took a deserted track that wound its way up to the farm where they would be staying. The taxi's pulled up in front of a large stone building, with the typical thatched roof. Hanging baskets full to the brim with colourful flowers flanked the tiny door. Trudging through the mud, the five tourists lugged their luggage towards the front door. Meanwhile, Dief took it upon himself to introduce himself to the farm dog.
A pleasant, slightly plump woman in her sixties opened the door to them. "Hello. Welcome to 'Home Farm'. Come inside all of you, its quite nippy outdoors today. I'm Emily, by the way." Emily was dressed in a floral ankle length dress and had a white apron tied around her waist that was covered in dough. She radiated warmth and had that grandmotherly air about her. All of the guests immediately liked her.
Each of them greeted her and introduced themselves. Glancing around at them, Emily quickly studied her guests. She prided herself with being able to sum people up pretty well. She took an instant like to Fraser and an instant dislike to Henri. To Emily, on first appearance Fraser seemed like every mother's idea of a perfect son, or husband for their daughter. He looked very handsome in his brown leather jacket. She pegged Fraser as a 'good sort'. Henri on the other hand, Emily sensed was devious and most definitely a 'bad sort'.
She had been slightly startled by the sight of the wolf, but he appeared to be friendly enough, because he had ran up to Emily and licked her hands. While Emily laughed in amusement, Fraser had politely pointed out that Dief probably detected the dough on her hands from baking.
Emily thought that behind their faults, the others were 'good sorts'. She had an inkling that Ray was insecure and so acted tough. She'd only been in the vicinity of him for a few minutes and he had already cracked numerous jokes at other's people's expense, mostly Inspector Thatcher's. But Emily didn't think that he was truly a bad person. She sensed that underneath his charade he was probably sensitive and afraid to show it.
Another person Emily believed lived her life behind an act was Inspector Thatcher. Emily realised that Meg must have had to be tough, or at least appear it, to get where she was in the RCMP. Meg pretended to be hard and not care that Ray was making digs at her, however, Emily could tell that deep down Ray's comments hurt like a hot poker to Meg. In Emily's opinion Meg needed a mother figure in her life. Emily felt sorry for her and knew that even though Meg appeared to keep people emotionally at bay, Meg really longed for someone to give her a hug. Emily could detect a lot of sexual tension between Meg and Fraser and wondered what all of that was about!
Turnbull came across as not too bright, but very willing. Emily thought that he must have brains to have made it into the RCMP, and that he was just lacking in the common sense department, which made him appear thick at times. A very nice man, but one that would surely drive you around the bend if you had to spend long periods of time in his company.
Emily led them through the hall and up the winding stairs towards their rooms. Showing them to their designated rooms, Emily suddenly remembered something. "Henri a parcel arrived for you. I've put it on the desk in your room," Emily told him.
"Oh! Er, thank you." Henri let his gaze fall on the floor as he spoke. His action looked shifty to Emily.
To Meg's relief, each of them had a room to themselves, except for Fraser who shared with Dief. Thatcher's room was at the back of the farmhouse and overlooked a small vegetable garden. Even though the view was nice, the location wasn't, because she was situated next door to Henri.
During dinner the guests met Jack, who was Emily's husband. He was a tall lean man in his late sixties, with a white beard, rosy cheeks from spending a lot of time outdoors and a cheery disposition.
After dinner everyone gathered in the living room. Like the rest of the house the ceiling in the room was low and had dark wooden beams fixed to it. A roaring coal fire was the main feature in the room and sat down on the sofa next to Fraser, Meg was enchanted by the jumping flames. It was so cosy that she subconsciously snuggled closer to Fraser. Henri was watching her closely from across the room and noticing, Thatcher decided to play the ruse. To Fraser's surprise she kissed Fraser's cheek and then before resting her head on his shoulder she whispered to him, "Henri's watching. Put your arm around me." Fraser willingly complied.
Even though the ruse had earlier been explained to them, Ray snickered and Turnbull's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Oblivious to the ruse, Henri just looked pissed as hell and knocked back in one go what was left of his scotch.
The grandfather clock in the corner of the room struck eleven p.m. and Meg decided to turn in for bed. At the same time as saying goodnight to their hosts, Thatcher got hold of Fraser's hand and pulled him up to his feet. Fraser had no choice but to comply as Thatcher literally dragged him out of the room.
Once they were upstairs, Thatcher stopped outside of her room and letting go of Fraser's hand she turned to face him. "Fraser---this is kind of difficult to ask…" She sighed and then briefly rested her tongue on her bottom lip. "Henri is in the room next to me and---he would expect for us to---you know…"
"I'm sorry Sir, I don't quite follow?"
Thatcher made an exasperated noise. "What I mean Fraser is that Henri would expect for us to---to---to do what other couples who are dating would do."
"I'm sorry Sir, but I still don't quite follow. Such as what?"
"Well, it sure isn't chess." Thatcher was close to thumping him at this stage. "Sex Fraser. Henri will expect us to have sex."
Fraser blushed and looked totally embarrassed. "Oh! I---erm---you---we…" He stuttered and awkwardly tugged at his collar. Clearing his throat he timidly asked, "Sir, are you saying that you want us to…? You see, when you said about the ruse I had no idea that you meant---but it is my fault that he's here. I mean, I suppose it's the least I can do!"
Thatcher's breath caught in her throat at what she took as his offer. "Are you all right Sir?" Fraser asked with a concerned look on his face. All Thatcher could do was nod. Composing herself, Meg was finally able to speak.
"Fraser, I didn't mean that we should---you know. What I meant was that---well, would you mind coming into my room and pretending to---to 'do it'?"
"Oh! I see. Erm, no, I don't mind at all." To Thatcher's surprise, Fraser actually sounded a little disappointed that she only wanted him to pretend.
Inside Thatcher's room, Fraser and Meg sat on the edge of her bed in silence and waited for the sound of movement next door in Henri's room, indicating that he had retired to his bedroom. Nervously, Thatcher and Fraser nodded at each other. Thatcher began the performance by calling out, "Ben."
Fraser followed her lead and called out, "Margaret."
They both then progressed to "Oh yes," after each other's names.
* * * * *
In the dark, thick-gloved fingers undid the brown padded envelope. A 'pen' was carefully extracted from the envelope, along with a small electronic box. The top of the 'pen' was pressed to activate it. When the time was right, all as the person now had to do was press the button on the remote control box to detonate the 'pen'.
Quietly slipping into Fraser's room, the same person slipped the 'pen' into Fraser's Jodhpur pocket.
* * * * *
After their performance ended, they both sat in silence, not quite knowing what to say and unable to look at one another. After several minutes Thatcher mumbled something about 'letting Fraser get back to his room' and dismissed him. Fraser gladly jumped to his feet and, just about managed to get 'good night' out before bolting out of the door.
* * * * *
November 5th
Fraser was the first of the human guests to arise. Smartly dressed in his red serge uniform he made his way towards the kitchen, where he could smell the enticing aroma of bacon, eggs, sausages and toast. Dief was already in the kitchen, being fussed over by Emily. Hearing Fraser approach, Emily turned around and smiled heartily at him.
"Oh! Good morning, Fraser. You're up nice and early. Most of my guests normally don't rise at this hour. Here, sit yourself down and I'll dish out your breakfast."
Just as Fraser seated himself at the kitchen table, Thatcher appeared in the doorway. Glancing at each other, they both blushed and quickly averted their eyes.
"Blimey, another early riser," Emily stated. "You look tired dear, didn't you sleep well?"
"Not really. I kept hearing a sort of rustling noise---I think that it was coming from the roof. And then when I did mange to fall asleep, I was woken up at the crack of dawn by the cock crowing."
"Ah! That's the joys of a farm. There's one thing though, I don't need an alarm clock because it wakes me up everyday," Emily joked.
Tired, Thatcher sat down at the table as far away from Fraser as was possible and poured herself some coffee. Moments later, Turnbull and Ray joined them for breakfast. Thatcher looked at the Full English Breakfast on her plate and her stomach grimaced. There was no way that she could eat all of that so early in the morning. Meg didn't want to offend Emily, but the meal looked like a heart attack on a plate.
Holding his stomach, Henri ambled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Plopping himself into a chair, he groaned. "Are you all right?" Emily asked him, her face showing obvious concern.
"No. I've got stomach pains. I think it must be something I've ate."
"Well, it most certainly isn’t my cooking."
"Er, no. Of course not. I meant that it's probably the airline food."
"Do you want to see the doctor?" Emily asked.
"Erm, no. No. Thank you, but that's not necessary."
"Maybe you should get back to bed?" Emily said and put her hand to his forehead. "Well, you haven't got a temperature, so that's a good sign."
"Yes, I think I will go back to bed. I'll just have a cup of tea first."
"What about meeting the Queen?" Turnbull asked.
"I'm afraid I'll have to miss it. I feel too ill."
"Oh, but that's dreadful," Turnbull exclaimed.
Henri shrugged his shoulders. "There's nothing I can do about it. I think the best thing for me to do is as Emily suggested, 'go to bed'."
"Yes, it's probably for the best," Thatcher readily agreed. Turning her back to him she asked the others, "About that rustling last night, did anyone else hear it?"
"Yes, I heard it," Fraser said.
"So did I," Turnbull agreed.
"Yep, me too," Ray managed through a mouthful of sausage.
"Emily, do you have any idea what it could have been?" Thatcher queried. "Because I'm baffled."
"Erm---I---no. Not really. I don't know what it could have been." Emily averted Thatcher's eyes.
"I think that you do," Thatcher accused.
Emily sighed and looked at Thatcher. "You're right, I do know. But it's best that you don't know the answer."
"Why?" Thatcher prodded.
"Let's just leave it at that!" Emily said.
"No. I want to know. Please Emily, tell us!" Thatcher held Emily's gaze.
"All right. But you're not going to like it. That---noise you heard, the rustling---well, to explain---it's a common problem with thatched roofs. Even though they may look pretty---they're warm and attract…" She took a deep breath. "Mice like to nest in them."
"WHAT?!???? MICE!?!!!!" All of the guests shouted in unison and Ray nearly choked on his sausage.
Emily meekly nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid so."
* * * * *
On the way to meet the Queen, Turnbull was very aloof with Fraser and kept shooting him disgusted looks. Eventually, Fraser had had enough of Turnbull's behaviour and asked, "All right Turnbull, what's the matter? Have I done something to offend you?"
"Yes."
"Well? Are you going to tell me what I've done or do I have to play a guessing game?"
"I heard you." Turnbull looked very upset.
"I beg your pardon? You heard me what?"
"I---I heard you and the Inspector last night. How could you?" Tears glistened in his eyes and he sniffed.
"Oh!" Fraser blushed.
"It's not what you think Turnbull," Thatcher quickly said.
"What isn't?" Ray asked, looking both amused and bewildered.
Thatcher ignored Ray's question and spoke instead to Turnbull. "We were only pretending for Henri's benefit, that's all. Nothing happened."
"Really?"
"Yes," Thatcher firmly confirmed. Reaching over and taking hold of Turnbull's hand, she asked, "What I don't understand though, is why you've got so upset about it?"
Looking down at his lap Turnbull went quiet and wouldn't answer the question. Ray took that opportunity to start pressing for details again, but to his annoyance, no one would answer him.
* * * * *
Inside the ginormous royal blue and gold decorated room, in Buckingham Palace, the five of them all lined up. They were more nervous than they had ever been in their entire lives. Five sets of awe-struck eyes took in the grand room. Priceless antiques were diplayed on top of equally priceless family heirlooms. Portraits of deceased Kings and Queens adorned the walls. Fraser recognised most of the portraits. One portrait in particular caught Fraser's eye. It was of King Henry VIII, and was very impressive. In the portrait, King Henry VIII was dressed in a gold and black outfit. Expensive looking jewelry finished off his outfit. To Fraser, the portrait radiated authority.
The large ornate double doors swung open and in swept the present day monarch; Queen Elizabeth II. Dressed in a bright yellow dress, the Queen started to walk, gracefully, along the line. Her short grey hair was neatly styled high off her forehead and, her jewelry consisted off pearl earrings, a matching pearl necklace and broach.
Fraser was the first in the line and as his name was called out, he respectfully bowed. The Queen nodded and held out her hand, briefly shaking Fraser's.
"Your Royal Highness," Fraser said, using the obligatory greeting.
The Queen spoke a few words of praise to him, to which Fraser blushed profoundly.
Thatcher was second in the line and she curtseyed as her name was called out. The Queen nodded and briefly shook Thatcher's hand.
"Your Royal Highness," said Thatcher.
After a few chosen words of praise the Queen curiously asked, "Are you any relation to Lady Thatcher?"
Meg Thatcher acknowledged, "Yes, Your Majesty. As a matter of fact, she's my aunt."
Turnbull was the third in the line. He graciously bowed as his name was called out. The Queen nodded and he nearly had a coronary when she briefly shook his hand.
"Your Royal Highness," Turnbull stuttered.
Suddenly the excitement was all too much for him and he started hyperventilating. Shrieking, he then clasping his hands together in a praying gesture, fell to his knees and fainted; his face appropriately resting on the Queen's feet as though he was kissing them.
The Queen jumped back in alarm, causing Turnbull's face to hit the thick luxuriously carpeted floor. While the others cringed at the embarrassment and the Queen looked slightly in shock; one of her guards came to Turnbull, checked his pulse and then carried him from the room.
Composing herself, the Queen moved along the line to Dief. The wolf bowed his head and then to the Queen's amusement, Dief lifted his paw up to her to shake. To Dief's pleasure the Queen then patted his head and stroked his back while it was explained to her that Dief had been allowed into the country on a special pet's passport.
Ray was the last in the line and he followed the other's lead by bowing. When the Queen nodded and shook his hand, he gave her one of his best Ray Vecchio smiles and politely said, "Your Royal Highness."
* * * * *
Estimating the time the five of them would be with the Queen; he picked up the remote control box.
'BOOM'.
Before he had time to press the button and detonate the device, an early firework going off caused him to nearly jump out of his skin and he dropped the box. The box smashed on the floor and broke into hundreds of little pieces.
"Shit!"
* * * * *
To Fraser's complete surprise, his pants suddenly started to get hot. Quickly glancing down at his jodhpurs his eyes went wide as he noticed smoke billowing out of his pants. *~ Oh my goodness!!! What on earth?!? What am I going to do??? ~*
The smoke wafted past Thatcher's nose and sniffing, she detected the smoke. Shooting a glimpse in the direction it was coming from; Thatcher couldn't believe her eyes. Fraser's pants appeared to be on fire. "Fraser, why are your pants on fire?" Thatcher whispered into his ear.
"I---I have no idea Sir. What should I do?" Fraser whispered back.
"You're asking me? We're meeting the Queen in Buckingham Palace and supposed to be on our best behaviour, and you ask me what you should do about your pants being on fire? How the hell should I know? But if you burn the palace down and are still alive after the blaze, I swear, Fraser, I'll kill you myself!" Thatcher hissed in his ear.
The smoke must have wafted over to where the Queen was stood talking to Ray because, her brow creased in puzzlement and she turned in the direction of the smoke. Fraser's pants at this point were functioning like a chimney and spying the source of the smoke, the Queen said, "Constable Fraser your pants appear to be smouldering."
Just as the Palace smoke alarms went off, the Queen's Guards jumped on Fraser. Searching him, they found the cause of the fire; the 'pen'. Fraser looked at the 'pen'; stunned. While they all evacuated the building he repeatedly told the guards that he 'had no idea how the 'pen' had got there'.
Thatcher, Ray, Turnbull and Dief could only stand by and watch helplessly while Fraser was arrested and carted away. Angry that Fraser had been taken away, Dief rebelled and started to chase the Queen's Corgi's.
* * * * *
Back at the farm, Thatcher rushed straight to Henri and telling him what had happened, she asked for his legal advice. "I suggest he just confesses. It will be easier on him if he does. It's the best thing for him to do."
"He didn't do it."
"He had the 'pen' on him. And you know how much trouble he gets involved in!"
"Yes, that may be so, but he would never do what he's being accused of."
"Meg, don't let your personal feelings cloud your judgement."
"I'm not. I know him and he wouldn't do it."
Emily overheard the conversation and ran outside to find her husband. She located Jack in the barn, shotgun in hand, on the look out for vermin. Seeing his wife approach, Jack propped his shotgun up against the wall inside the barn. He listened carefully while Emily told him what she had overheard.
"I don't think that he did it though, Jack."
"Hmmm! He didn't seem the sort of chap, but you never know!"
"I know a way we can find out. The tapes. Come on." Emily grabbed hold of her husband's hand and pulled him towards the farmhouse. Once inside they retrieved the surveillance tape of Fraser's room and then both sat down to watch it. Emily's idea paid off because the tape clearly showed the culprit.
Telling his wife to 'be careful', Jack jumped into his Land Rover and sped off to the police station.
* * * * *
Annoyed at Henri's words, Thatcher stormed out of his room and went for a walk to think things through. After an hour she decided to look for Emily and explain the situation. Meg knew that Emily was going to find out sooner or later and she would rather she heard from her, than off the news. Thatcher found Emily baking in the kitchen.
Before Thatcher had a chance to even open her mouth, Emily said, "You don't need to tell me, I know about it dear. I accidentally overheard." To Meg's surprise Emily put down the bowl and spoon, and hugged her. "Oh my dear, it's going to be all right."
"He didn't do it, you know," Meg told Emily.
"I know he didn't. I never thought for a second that he had, but now we've got proof that he didn't."
"Proof? What do you mean? What kind of proof?"
"Video footage. Jack has taken it to the police. We've had a lot of things stolen and so we inserted cameras around the farmhouse. We only play them back if something is missing. After I overheard you telling Henri, Jack and I took a look at the video of Fraser's room and it showed Henri planting the 'pen' into Fraser's jodhpurs. "
"Henri did what! How could he do that to us? The bastard was going to blow us up. I knew he was a slimeball, but I didn't think he'd stoop that low." Meg was furious.
Hearing Thatcher's raised voice; Ray and Turnbull came into the kitchen to see what was going on. Thatcher quickly filled them in on Henri. When she'd finished, Ray started to rant and rave that he was 'gonna punch the bastards lights out'.
Henri came downstairs to see what all of the commotion was about. Standing just outside the closed kitchen door he listened to their conversation. The realisation that he had been found out and would be arrested hit him as hard as a brick. Henri was determined that he wasn't going to jail. Or worse---in England, the only crime that still warrants the death penalty is treason. And as he was a Canadian citizen and so in the Commonwealth, he wasn't quite sure how it would work! Was it treason or not? He wasn't sure and he wasn't about to stand around to find out.
Running out of the house, he headed to the barn. He could decide from there where he was going to run to. Once in the barn Henri sat down on a hay bale and pondered his predicament. Surveying the barn, his desperate eyes swept over a shovel propped up against the wall and a rake on the floor. No good. Continuing to scan the barn, his eyes finally landed on the shotgun. Picking it up, he headed back to the farmhouse, stopping to rip down the washing line on the way there.
Bursting in through the back kitchen door, Henri waved the shotgun around the room at them. "Get over to the table all of you. MOVE NOW, or I'll blow your heads off. Remember that I'm a desperate man. I've got nothing to lose."
Slowly they all moved to the table. Thatcher glared at Henri. "You fucking bastard! You planted the 'pen' on Fraser and were going to blow us up. You were going to murder us. And then when it failed, you left Fraser to take the blame. You evil, cold hearted Viper!"
"Shut your mouth, Meg, before I do murder you. The four of you, put that wolf in the pantry and lock it," Henri ordered. Grudgingly and, to Dief's disgust, they followed his instructions.
"Now, put three chairs in a row and then sit down," Henri commanded. Looking at Meg he added, "Not you though, Meg." Once they had all obeyed he then ordered Meg to loop the washing line across Emily's, Ray's and Turnbull's chests and then around the back of the chairs, tying it in a series of knots. When Thatcher had finished, Henri checked that the knots were tight enough and then satisfied, he grabbed Thatcher's arm with his free hand and pushed her in front of him. Prodding her with the tip of the shotgun he manoeuvred her to the door.
Once outside, he made her walk along the long dirt track that led away from the farm, towards the village. "What are you planning on doing?" Meg asked.
"Just shut up and keep walking. I'm trying to think," Henri snapped.
When they got near to the bottom of the track the noise of approaching vehicles caught Henri's ears. He roughly shoved Thatcher behind a hedge and standing behind her, he put his hand over her mouth.
A police car zoomed up the track towards the farmhouse followed closely by Jack's Land Rover. Freed from the police station, Fraser was sat in the front passenger seat of Jack's Land Rover. Looking out of the front passenger seat window, Fraser thought that he glimpsed something red through the hedge; but thought nothing of it.
After the cars had passed, Henri pushed Meg back onto the track. The realisation that he wouldn't get far without transport was beginning to sink in. He needed a vehicle and he needed one now. An idea occurred to him. Spinning Thatcher around, he shoved her back through the hedge and pushed her through the field towards the barn and farmhouse. He was going to try and steal Jack's car.
Reaching the farmhouse, the cars screeched to a halt and the occupants jumped out. The police cautiously entered the farmhouse first, with Fraser and Jack close at their heels. Finding the three tied up in the kitchen, the police untied them, while Fraser let Dief out of the pantry. Upon hearing what had happened, Fraser told the police about thinking he saw something red though the hedge. "It could be the red of Inspector Thatcher's serge," Fraser told them all.
One of the Police Officers got on his radio to request armed back up. At the same time, the other Police Officer ordered everyone to stay on the farm. Both Police Officers then ran to their car to check out what Fraser had seen. Jack followed them outside and drove his Land Rover around the back of the house, to the barn, so that he could keep an eye on it from the kitchen. Locking it up, he went back inside the house.
From behind the cover of the truck of an old oak tree, Henri and Thatcher watched the police car hurtle off down the track towards the village. Henri guided Thatcher around to the back of the farmhouse, towards the barn where Jack had parked his car.
From the kitchen window Fraser spotted Henri and Thatcher moving towards the barn and Henri also spotted Fraser. Holding the shotgun to Thatcher's head, Henri shouted, "Fraser, come outside now! And bring the car keys with you! Or I'll shoot your precious whore! The rest of you, stay inside."
Fraser opened the kitchen door and stepped outside alone. "Let her go, Henri."
"No, I don't think so. I haven't had any fun with her yet." Henri leered at Meg and then kissed her neck. Meg shuddered in repulsion. "Now, move into the barn," Henri instructed and Fraser could do nothing but comply.
Inside the barn, Henri smirked at Fraser. "I'm going to enjoy this!"
* * * * *
Back in the kitchen, Jack was calling the police and Ray was saying, "If they're not back out in five, I'm going in."
"And I'm coming with you," Turnbull declared.
* * * * *
"Why are you doing this Henri?" Meg asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know!" Pushing Thatcher towards Fraser, Henri pointed the shotgun in their direction. "Any last requests Fraser?"
"Yes. Let Inspector Thatcher go."
"Sorry, no can do. But before you die, I want you to know that once I've killed you, I'm going to take Meg like I've wanted to since the first moment I saw her. And then Meg and I are going for a little ride." Aiming the shotgun at Fraser, Henri pulled the trigger.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO," Thatcher shrieked.
'BANG'.
The bullet hit Fraser in the right shoulder, knocking him to the ground. While Fraser lay on the floor, bleeding, Henri teased, "Well, well, you're not such the hero now." Henri started to pull the trigger again and as he did so, Thatcher jumped in front of Fraser, taking the bullet for him.
The bullet hit her in her left thigh and she fell on top of Fraser. "You stupid cow," Henri called her and yanked her to her feet. Snatching the keys off Fraser, Henri said, "Oh, well, he'll have to die a slow death now, because I'm not wasting anymore bullets on him. There's another bright side too; he'll be able to watch me take you. Now strip."
Thatcher just stood there, refusing to strip. She wanted to sit down and take the weight off her leg, but she didn't because she was determined to stand her ground. "I said STRIP now," Henri ordered.
"No."
"If you don't I'll shoot you."
"Then shoot me. I'd rather be shot than---than do what you're going to try and make me do."
* * * * *
Hearing the gunshots Ray and Turnbull dashed out of the kitchen. They were half way to the barn when the police car that had been there earlier, pulled up in front of them. "We just heard gunshots," Ray told them.
"How many?"
"Two," Ray said as he tried to pass the policemen.
One of them grabbed his arm. "Where do you think you're going?"
"In there." Ray pointed to the barn.
"No you're not. We have orders not to approach him until the Armed Response Team get here."
"We can't just wait out here, they could be hurt," Ray protested.
"And if you go in there, you'll more than likely be shot too," the older Policeman told him.
* * * * *
Henri slapped Thatcher across the face. "If you don't strip, I'll shoot Fraser in the stomach and he'll have a slow and agonising death."
Thatcher looked over at Fraser. She felt torn. She didn't want to strip, but at the same time she couldn't let Henri shoot Fraser again. Thatcher was his Superior Officer and she felt that it was her duty to protect him. With that in mind, she reluctantly began to undo her Sam Browne.
"I'll strip for you Henri, but please, don't---don't rape me."
"You scorned me, Meg and then rubbed my face in it with that---Superman of a Mountie."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. But please, if you ever thought anything of me, don't do this."
"It's too late for apologies now, Meg. Besides, I've got nothing to lose. What's one more crime to the list when I'm going to be arrested for attempting to assassinate the Queen!"
Seeing that Meg's serge and white top were off and that her jodhpurs were undone, Henri said, "Pull you're jodhpurs down and that'll do."
Moving towards her, he handcuffed her hands behind her back and pushed her down onto the floor. Placing the gun on the floor he undid his trousers, pulled them down and then lay on top of Meg. As he did so, Meg tried to knee him in the groin, but was unable to do so because he had hold of her legs.
"Please Henri, don't." Ignoring her plea, he tried to kiss her on the lips, but she turned her head away. He kissed her on the neck instead. "If you're really going to do this, at least use a condom!"
"Sorry, darling, I don't have one on me."
Meg looked at him with hate in her eyes. "You'll never win my love. This isn't sex, Henri, it's rape."
* * * * *
"How long are they gonna take to get here?" Ray demanded to know.
"They'll be here as soon as they can," the younger Police Officer told him.
"HELP." Thatcher's voice carried through the air to them.
Ray started to move towards the barn. It took both of the Policemen to restrain him. Turnbull couldn't stand by and not do something to help her and while they were restraining Ray, Turnbull slipped past the two Policemen and into the barn.
* * * * *
What Turnbull saw in the barn made his blood run cold. First he saw Fraser lying on the floor, bleeding, and then he saw Henri on top of Thatcher. Henri was struggling with Thatcher, trying to get Meg's knickers down. To do so, he had had to let go of one of Meg's legs and she was subsequently trying to manoeuvre her leg to knee him.
"Get off her!" Turnbull yelled.
Startled at the interruption Henri turned around. He was thrown slightly off guard and Thatcher was able to knee him in the groin.
"Ow! you bitch!"
Turnbull was already running over to them. Taking hold of Henri's shoulders, he hauled Henri off Thatcher and punched him in the face. Henri landed on the floor and Turnbull picked up the shotgun.
Groggily scrambling to his feet, Henri lunged for the nearby shovel and tripped over the edge of a bale of hay. Thatcher and Turnbull closed their eyes at the sound of Henri landing on the spikes of the garden rake that was lying on the floor.
Turnbull bowed his head for a moment and then after gathering up Thatcher's clothes, he went over to her. Unlocking the handcuffs, he tenderly rubbed her wrists and then handed her clothes to her, "Here you go, Sir. Are you all right? You don't need to worry about him any more." He could see that she was shaking and placing her red serge around her shoulders, he gently put his arm around her.
"I think so. My leg hurts, but I'll be all right. Thank you Turnbull." She looked gratefully into his eyes and what she saw in them shocked her; she saw love. Continuing to look into his eyes she saw Turnbull in a new light. She saw him properly for the first time.
"You're most welcome, Sir. I couldn't stand by and let anyone hurt you. You mean too much to me." Then glancing at her leg he exclaimed, "you're bleeding. Oh, my gosh!" Taking out his handkerchief he wrapped it around the wound on her leg.
While he did that, Thatcher asked, "Is Fraser all right?"
"I don't know. My first priority was to make sure you were all right. I'll go and see how he is while you put your clothes on."
Shouting, "It's all right to come in!" to the other's outside, Turnbull went over to Fraser and checked his pulse. Finding a pulse, Turnbull let out a long sigh of relief. "He's alive."
"Thank goodness," Meg said, whilst fastening her Sam Browne.
Ray came running into the barn, along with Dief and the two policemen. Dropping to his knees at Fraser's side, Ray held his buddy's head carefully in his lap and kept talking to him in a soothing manner. Dief whimpered, lay down at the side of Fraser and licked Fraser's face. The older policeman radioed for an ambulance and the younger policeman went over to Henri's dead body. "Urr, what a horrible way to die! I suppose you could say that it's a horrible end to a horrible man!"
Turnbull went back over to Thatcher and scooped her into his strong arms. She rested her head against his chest while he carried her out of the barn.
* * * * *
The Bonfire party at the farm was postponed until both Fraser and Thatcher were out of hospital. Seated at a safe distance from the large bonfire, the Mounties, Ray, Dief, Emily and Jack looked up to the dark night sky and enjoyed the fireworks display. Rockets soared into the sky and exploded into an array of colours. Turning their attention to the ground, they watched Roman Candles burn, and Bangers and Crackerjacks explode. Catherine Wheels, attached to the wall of the barn, spun around frantically and caught everyone's eye with their wild dance of light and colour. Their faces lit up like the night sky as they watched the fireworks, and ate Treacle Toffee and Toffee Apples.
Thatcher was sat next to Turnbull and watching the display she took hold of his hand and squeezed it. He looked at her and they smiled warmly at each other. By the light from the fireworks Thatcher saw the light in Turnbull's eyes. She saw that they were glowing brightly with love for her and she knew that her own eyes glowed with love for him. "Did you mean what you said in the barn when you said that I 'mean too much to you to let anyone hurt me?'" She knew the answer was 'yes' before she asked, but she needed confirmation from him.
"Yes. I meant every word. I---I…" Turnbull broke off and looked at his lap.
"You what?"
"I shouldn't really say. It would be inappropriate for me to."
"To say what? Please, Turnbull. Tell me!"
He lifted his head up and looked at her. "I---I'm in love with you Sir."
Thatcher smiled at him and kissed his cheek. Turnbull blushed happily. Holding a sparkler in her gloved hand Thatcher wrote 'I LOVE YOU TOO' in the air.
Turnbull's face shone even happier and taking the sparkler from her hand, he stubbed it out in the bucket of sand. He then tenderly kissed her forehead, pulled her into his arms and held her tightly to him.
The End