Megabitch to Megastar
By Postcard
Rating: - PG. Humour. Romance. H/C. Slight Episode Related.
Pairings: - Fraser/Thatcher.
Teaser: - LOL. All as I'm going to say is three little words, 'Maid Service Meg'. =o)
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/October 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 after SIB. My story takes off the day after the arrests at the end of the episode. Fraser, Ray K (but he's officially known as Ray Vecchio, hence the name on the package and note in my story), Thatcher, and Welsh have gone back to the Shopping Mall, to finish off the dedication of a gift from Canada - an Inuit Inuksuk. And this story is for zzzaney, seeing as she ever so politely<G>demanded---er, I mean 'asked', "NOW GIVE ME A FIC". <BG> Also, TYK to Blink for accidentally coming up with part of the title for this story, the 'Megabitch' part, te he he. I ROTFLMAO as my mischievous brain split the word up into 'Meg a bitch' and I just had to use it for a title. =o) Hope you all enjoy reading this and any constructive comments are welcome at postcard@manutd.com
Inside the large Chicago shopping mall, Inspector Meg Thatcher descended off the podium and walked over to her subordinate. "Thank goodness that's over with, Fraser. I hate these events. I might as well have been talking to a brick wall, for all the good it did, because nobody listened to a goddamn word I said!"
"Oh, I think that's a slight exaggeration, Sir. For one, I was listening and I'm sure that other's were listening too!"
"You may have been listening, because well---let's get it right, Fraser, you'll listen to anyone going on about anything. The last thing the average American citizen, going about their shopping, wants to listen to, is some Canadian woman sprouting off a bunch of stuff that they don't give a damn about or understand. They don't give a toss about a pile of rocks. As it's already been pointed out to us, they'd much rather Canada give them 'some weapons'."
"I'm sure they'll appreciate the Inuksuk given time!"
"I doubt it."
Their 'debate' was interrupted as an excited man ran towards Thatcher. "Holy shit!!! It is you. I thought it was you. I mean, you've changed your hair---it's a lot shorter and obviously you're a bit older…but apart from that, you still look the same."
Thatcher quickly scrutinised the man, trying to recall who he was. She estimated that he was in his mid thirties. He was smartly dressed, in a grey business suit, and Thatcher instantly thought that he was 'not bad looking', with his short blond hair and sparkling green eyes. Racking her brains, Thatcher tried to remember who he was. Surely she wouldn't forget someone this handsome! "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"No, but I'm your biggest fan." The man never took his eyes off Thatcher. Even though Fraser was stood at the side of her, the man seemed not to be aware of his presence---or at least, he didn't bother to acknowledge it.
"I beg your pardon?" Thatcher sounded apprehensive.
"Sorry, I've not introduced myself, have I? I'm Chuck." He held his hand out to her and like a robot, Meg shook his outstretched hand. "Oh, wow!!! I can't believe I've just touched you. Oh my God! Just wait until I tell the guys! They'll be soooo jealous."
Kowalski and Lt. Welsh chose that moment to join them. "Yo! Fraze! Ice Q…! Er, Thatcher! What ya guys chattin bout? Who'll be jealous?"
Nobody answered him, because Chuck started to race on with his praise of Thatcher. "I thought you were wonderful in 'Maid Service Meg'. That was an amazing performance. Oh my! I have to say you're even sexier in real life. Whoa! I just can't believe that I've run into you here. It's just unreal to meet you!" Chuck finally broke off to catch his breath, and stood smiling at her.
"Maid Service Meg?!?!?" Kowalski and Welsh uttered together, and after exchanging glances, they both gawked at Thatcher.
Every bone in Thatcher's body was rigid. "I'm sorry, you must be mistaking me for someone else!" She was clasping her hands together so tightly, that her knuckles were going white. Noticing that Fraser, Kowalski and Welsh were staring, astonished, at her, she tried to relax her posture.
"No, I'm sure I'm not. I've watched you that many times; I'd know you anywhere. I bet I know you better than your boyfriend, eh!" He winked at her.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Thatcher's voice was icy.
"Oh, come on! Of course you do. You can't have forgotten the skimpy maids outfit, and your co performer 'Sir Simon the Screwing Serpent'?"
"S-s-skimpy maids outfit?!?!?" Kowalski managed to get out, and then getting over the initial shock, he erupted into uncontrollable laughter.
"Screwing Serpent?!?!?" Welsh muttered, stunned.
"I…" Meg was at a loss for words. Instead of speaking, she started competing with her uniform on 'which could look the brightest shade of red'. Fraser opened his mouth to say something in her defence, but he was too dumbfounded to speak and so he just stood there, with his mouth hanging open, looking shocked, at his Superior Officer.
"I love the outfit by the way," Chuck complemented Thatcher's red serge uniform. "Are you filming another one? Oh, I hope so! You'd kind of dropped off the scene and I was really disappointed that there were no other's with you in."
"I am not filming anything. I am a member of the R.C.M.P," Thatcher exploded at him.
"Oh! So that isn't a costume for a new porno movie then?" He looked and sounded disappointed.
Fraser's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Imagining his Superior Officer dressed in her uniform, in a porno movie, Fraser started to hyperventilate. At the same time, Welsh and Kowalski literally shouted together, "Porno movie?!?!?"
"NO, it most certainly is NOT a costume for a---a..." Thatcher's hands were balled into fists and she looked ready to punch someone.
Fraser started to make wheezing noises. And from his position on the floor, doubled over with laughter, Kowalski kept reaching up and lightly slapping Thatcher's arm, stuttering, "p-p-po-porno movies?!?!? Ha! Ya kiddin me right?"
Irritated, Thatcher gave Kowalski a hard whack on the back and then elbowed Fraser in the ribs, in an attempt to shut them both up. Tactfully, Welsh backed away from Thatcher before she assaulted him as well.
"Er, sorry. That's a pity, I'd like to see some more of you again. Ha! D'ya get it? 'More of you'!" Chuck grinned at Thatcher. Meg did 'get it' and in response she glared at him. He was so star-struck, that he was oblivious to her heated mood. "Would you like to go out tonight and maybe we could star in our own little movie?"
"Drop dead," Thatcher shouted at him.
"I take it that's a 'no' then! Erm--- may I…? I don't suppose there's any chance of…? Er, please can I have your autograph?"
"No, you can't. Clear off you pervert and leave me alone. If you come near me again, I'll have a restraining order put on you."
Disappointed and hurt, the man scurried off.
Thoroughly embarrassed, Thatcher tried to persuade Fraser, Kowalski and Welsh, that Chuck was deranged. "I---I've no idea what he's talking about. He's just---just some wacko."
"Er, o-of course, Sir," Fraser reassured Thatcher. However, he didn't sound too sure about it!
* * * * *
The week after, three identical packages were delivered in Chicago. One to the Chicago PD and two at the Canadian Consulate. The package that arrived at the Chicago PD was jointly addressed to 'Lt. H Welsh and Detective R Vecchio'. At the Canadian Consulate, one of the packages was addressed to 'Constable B Fraser' and the other to 'Inspector M Thatcher'.
Thatcher sat down on her comfy leather chair behind her desk and opened her package. Inside the package was videotape. Squinting at the title 'Maid service Meg', on the videotape, Meg's heart sank. A note accompanied the videotape, and with shaky hands, Meg unfolded the note. Putting her glasses on, she read the note: -
'Seeing as you couldn't remember, I thought I'd refresh your memory. I also thought your colleagues would like to know that you're not just a Megabitch, but a Megastar as well, and so I've sent Constable Fraser, Detective Vecchio and Lt Welsh copies of your moment of fame'.
It was signed, 'your number one fan'.
"Oh, God! Noooooooooo!!!" Thatcher jumped up out of her chair and ran out of her office. "Ovitz, where's Fraser's mail?" She demanded.
"He's collected it. He's just taken it to his office." Ever cheeky and inquisitive, Ovitz added, "Why?"
Ignoring his question, Thatcher dashed to Fraser's office and without knocking, she burst in. To her horror, Fraser was sat watching the beginning of the video entitled, 'Maid Service Meg'. Eyes glued to the screen, his jaw was nearly hitting the floor and his tongue was dangling out. Startled, by her sudden 'police raid' style entry into his office, he jumped up out of his chair as the door rebounded off the wall and slammed shut. Quickly, he hit the 'STOP' button on the VCR.
Fraser's face was bright red, and he wore a mixture of guilt at being caught watching a 'naughty' video and shock at his Superior Officer being in the 'naughty' video.
Meg looked as if her world had just collapsed and her body sagged against the closed door. She swallowed convulsively and tears welled in her eyes. "Y-y-you---you've seen it then!" Fraser could only manage a nod. "I…" Meg sighed and a tear ran down one of her flushed cheeks. "I---I needed the money."
"You don't need to explain," Fraser spoke in a low, soft voice.
"Yes. Yes, I do." The tears were flowing freely down Thatcher's face now. "I---I was at college in France and---and my father lost his job. It---it wasn't his fault, they were just letting people go, and my father was the last in, so---first out. We didn't have enough money to…well; I had to get a job to pay for my studies. To this day my father doesn't know what I did, and I don't want him to ever find out. It would kill him."
Fraser handed Thatcher a tissue and she blew her nose. "You see, the first jobs I went for paid crap and they had me working like a slave. I just---I just couldn't work like that and keep up with my studies. My grades were slipping to meet floor level and they were going to kick me out of college, if I didn't pull my socks up. And then my boyfriend at the time, he was an artist and he needed someone to pose for him. He said he'd pay me and being his girlfriend, I didn't want anyone else to pose for him in the nude, so---so I agreed."
Thatcher paused to blow her nose again. "At the exhibition of the painting, we met this guy who was a director and he well, he complimented me on my---figure, and offered me a part in one of his films. I---I refused at first…Anyhow, the outcome was as you just saw. I only did it the once and the money helped me to finish my education. Oh! And the guy in the video with me, 'Simon', that was my boyfriend at the time. I wouldn't do it…" Meg blushed even more at her choice of words.
"Er, I mean, I wouldn't take part in the film unless it was with my boyfriend. Luckily, the director agreed. So---now you know. I bet you're disgusted with me!"
Sniffing, Thatcher quickly turned around and headed for the door. Before she reached it, Fraser gently took hold of her shoulders. Turning her around to face him, he looked into her eyes. "No. I'm not disgusted with you."
"You're not?"
"No." Fraser pulled Thatcher towards him, into an embrace. Still sniffing, she gratefully buried her head against his chest, and he soothingly stroked her hair.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Lt Welsh undid the package and shoved the videotape into the VCR in his office. He then sat down on the sofa next to Kowalski, to watch the movie.