The Fire	This story has been sitting idly in a notebook for the
past few months, I figured I would go ahead and post it.  Bad decision? 
You decide, then EMAIL ME!  I live for feedback. 

I have come to the conclusion that unfortunately, I lack the patience to
write a longer story.  Weird, eh? 

Disclaimer:  Robert and Benton Fraser both belong to Alliance, among other
people.  I just borrowed them. 

Rated:  PG. 

Spoilers:  In North, Fraser tells Ray how he learned how to make a fire. 
Therefore, spoilers for the episode.	 The Fire  by ShrinkingViolet	 

Six year old Benton Fraser stumbled into the woods after his father.  He
forced his short legs to take longer and longer steps, attempting to keep
up.  When he stumbled, Ben didn't cry out. 

Tall and handsome, Constable Robert Fraser paused in a small clearing. 
The younger Fraser stumbled in after him and looked up with big, blue
eyes.  The older man crouched down beside him and took one of the boy's
small fists and pressed something into it, then stood.  Then he was gone,
and Ben was all alone. 

The young boy sat down on a fallen log and stared at what he held:  a book
of matches.    

Ben's small hands fumbled clumsily with a matchstick, striking it against
the box and dropping it down onto the small pile of twigs and leaves he
had gathered but it went out, leaving a small strand of smoke to drift
away into the wind.  Again and again Ben tried, until his fingers were
sore and tears streamed down his face.  His dark lashed eyes fluttered
closed and he took a deep, ragged breath. 

He took something out of the small box and held it in front of his face. 
It was the last match.  He tucked it away and carefully rearranged the
pile.  That done, he took a deep breath and struck it. 

A small flame appeared and Ben blew on it gently.  It grew slowly but
steadily, fed by the sticks the young boy patiently fed iut.  Soon, he had
a respectable blaze burning, large enough to warm his chilled hands.  He
awkwardly curled his body protectively around it, more dry wood at arm's
reach, and fell into a light sleep.    

"Ben."  A large hand shook him gently and Ben woke. 

"Dad?"  He asked, blinking to adjust his eyes to the newly fallen
darkness.  His father crouched beside him and helped Ben climb to his
feet. 

"It's a good fire, son." 

"Thanks, Daaaaadd....."  Benton yawned and Bob picked him up. 

"Let's go home."     Email Me  shrinkingviolet@freehomepage.com  Back to
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