More   

 

Rating: PG-13
 
 Romance, Episode-related with possible spoilers ("Victoria's Secret",
"All the Queen's Horses", and "Flashback"), PWP 

Note: The tearing up of facial tissue is something that my ten-year old
Tortoiseshell cat Amanda has done for many years. And yes, my favorite
author is L.M. Montgomery (author of "Anne of Green Gables"). Since Fraser
does seem to be very knowledgeable about all things Canadian, I figured he
would at least have heard of LMM.
 Title and lyrics from the Tara MacLean song "More", written by Tara
MacLean and featured on her 1996 album Silence (Nettwerk W2-30106) More 

 
 By CJD (e-mail address: avonleapei@hotmail.com) * * * 

Meg Thatcher opened the front door of her apartment with a reluctant
Benton Fraser behind her. 

"Fraser, I am not going to take 'no' for an answer. With the weather being
so bad, it will take you forever to get a cab. And if you walk home,
you'll catch your death from the cold." 

"Actually, ma'am, that's a common misconception. . ." 

"Fraser!," Meg cut him off sharply. "You will stay the night in my guest
room and that's final. The Consulate's car will be just fine in the
parking garage and you can return it in the morning." 

By this time, Meg had turned on several lights. Ben had picked his
superior officer up at her apartment building before when he'd driven her
to official functions, as he had done this evening, but he had never been
in her actual apartment before. The decor of it reminded him of her,
softly feminine, yet strong at the same time. 

"Please, make yourself at ho. . . Rilla!!" 

Meg picked up several pieces of shredded facial tissue off the floor near
the coffee table. 

"I'm sorry, Fraser, my cat, she has this habit of pulling facial tissue
out of the box and tearing it to bits. I've tried turning the boxes upside
down when I'm not using them, but she somehow manages to turn them over." 

"Rilla. That's an interesting name for a cat, ma'am. May I ask how you
came up with it?" 

Ben stood next to the dinning room table nearly at attention with his
Stetson in front of him. 

"I named her after a character in one of my favorite series of books from
my childhood: the Anne of Green Gables series by L.M. Montgomery.
Specifically after Rilla Blythe in the final book Rilla of Ingleside." 

"Ah. I seem to remember seeing the name L.M. Montgomery in my
grandparent's library but I don't remember ever reading any of her books."


Meg smiled gently. 

"It doesn't surprise me. She is generally considered a children's and
woman's author. Well. . .," Meg began walking toward a closed door. "Here
is the guest room, there should be hangers in the closet if you want to
hang up your tunic and your pants," Meg blushed slightly as an
unprofessional thought of Fraser out of his pants popped into her mind,
"uh, your uniform, and the bathroom is right next door. If you're hungry,
please help yourself to anything in the kitchen. There are all sorts of
snacks. And you can make coffee or hot chocolate if you would like." 

"Thank you, ma'am." Ben was still slightly shocked that he was going to
spend the night in his superior officer's apartment. 

"It's no trouble, Fraser. My room's right down the hall. Let me know if
you need anything." 

She turned and Ben watched her walk down the hall to her room. At the
door, she stopped, turned, and smiled at him before disappearing into the
room and closing the door. Ben let out the breath he'd unconsciously been
holding and entered the guestroom. He laid his Stetson on a chair and
removed his Sam Browne belt, lanyard, and boots. He had just taken off his
tunic, when he realized he was hungry. He also realized it would not be at
all appropriate to go in to his superior officer's kitchen wearing only
his boxers, especially when he was extremely attracted to said superior
officer. So he kept his pants, suspenders, undershirt, and socks on as he
headed to the kitchen for a snack. 

Meanwhile, in her room, Meg had Tara MacLean's Silence album playing
softly on her stereo as she began to change for bed. She'd taken off her
shoes, pantyhose, and jewelry. She began to unzip her dress and had gotten
it down a third of the way, when the zipper stuck. It would not budge. She
could not get it to slide up or down and it was not down far enough for
her to be able to slip out of the dress. *Damn, Damn, Damn. I suppose my
only option besides sleeping in this dress it to get Fraser to unzip it
for me.* The thought of Fraser's hands on her back made her blush. 

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and walked down the hall to the
kitchen, where she could hear him. 

"Fraser?" 

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he looked up from a bag of chips. 

"I'm really embarrassed about this and hate to bug you about it, but. . ."
She turned her eyes from his before returning them. "But the zipper of my
dress is stuck." 

"Oh, let me see what I can do." 

She turned her back towards him as he stood up from the small kitchen
table. She shuddered slightly as she felt his hands on the already exposed
skin of her back. 

"I'm sorry. Are my hands cold?" 

"No, no, there just fine." 

They stood there silently for several minutes. Meg held her hair out of
Ben's way as Ben gently moved fabric out of the way of the zipper's teeth.


"There we go. There was just some fabric caught in it." 

As Ben slid the zipper down, he thrilled at the feeling of her skin
against the back of his fingers and the sight of the back of her bra. When
he picked her up at her apartment building that evening, she'd come into
the lobby with her coat on her arm. He noticed immediately that she wore
the same black cocktail dress she'd worn all those months ago when he had
asked her out for coffee and she'd accepted. 

Meg felt Ben's hands cease their movement and she knew he had finished his
task. But she was not ready for it all to end. She wanted his large,
strong hands on her bare skin. Without even thinking about what she was
doing, Meg reached her hands back and laid them on Ben's thighs. She heard
his breath quicken and knew he had gotten her not-so-subtle hint. Ben slid
his hands up Meg's arms until he reached her shoulders. Once there, he
gently pushed the dress off her shoulders and off her body as he bent to
kiss her neck softly. Meg moaned softly and turned to face him, kicking
the dress from around her feet as she did so. Ben took Meg into his arms
and kissed her as he had wanted to for every day since their kiss on top
of the train (except of course for the day he had amnesia). Meg, who now
stood in only her bra and panties, delighted in the feel of Ben's hands
running up and down her back. She wanted to feel him the same way. She
slid her hands up to his shoulders and pushed the suspenders from them.
She continued to undress him, removing his pants and undershirt and using
her feet to remove his socks, until he wore only his starched, white
boxers. They kissed deeply again before pulling away from each other
slightly, Meg's arms around Ben's waist and Ben's around Meg's, and looked
into each other's eyes. 

"Meg," Ben whispered as though someone might hear him and disapprove, "are
you sure?" These were the first words either of them had spoken since Ben
had freed Meg's zipper. 

In reply, Meg released Ben from her hold and unhooked his arms from around
her. She stepped back slightly and reached behind her back to unhook her
bra. Like Ben's undershirt, she tossed the bra carelessly away. She
stepped back towards Ben. He could feel her bare breasts pressed against
his bare chest and again wrapped his arms around her. Meg slid her hands
around Ben's back and slipped them into his boxers. She placed a hand on
each buttock and squeezed gently. 

"What does that tell you, Constable?" 

"I take it that means yes." 

Without a word, Meg removed her hands from Ben's boxers and taking one of
his hands in one of her's, led him down the hall to her bedroom. Once
inside the room, she closed the door in the face of a very upset cat. * *
* 

THE NEXT MORNING 

The first thing Meg saw when she woke up the next morning was the
peacefully sleeping face of Benton Fraser. She still could not believe
last night had happened. She pinched herself on the arm and discovered her
dream had really come true. Meg was just about to touch his beautiful face
when the telephone rang. Reluctantly, she rolled to her other side to
answer the phone. As she picked it up, she glanced at the clock on her
nightstand and noted the time: 9:30am. Who could be calling her at 9:30 on
a Saturday morning. She hated being called before 11 on weekends. 

"Hello? Turnbull," Meg instantly slipped into her 'Inspector voice', "why
are you calling me this early in the morning on the weekend? Haven't I
discussed this with you before? Yes, I know Constable Fraser did not
return the Consulate's car last night. No, there is not need to call his
apartment building. No, Turnbull, I do not hold you responsible." A hand
slipped around her waist and laid itself on her stomach. Meg glanced over
herself and smiled at Ben. "No, Turnbull, I do not think Constable FRASER
got into an accident on his way to return the car." Just as Meg said
"Fraser", Ben had nibbled on her shoulder. Meg tried steadied her voice
for the rest of the sentence and then turned and mouthed the word "Ben!"
at Ben. Ben stifled a chuckle. "Good-bye, Turnbull." 

Meg hung up the phone and turned to face Ben. 

"I take it, Meg, that Turnbull was disturbed to find that I did not return
the car and feared you would seriously hurt him." 

"Yup. What was with that bite to my shoulder? Surely Turnbull noticed my
change in tone. He is going to think I picked someone up last night." 

"Actually, I picked you up last night, to drive you, that is." Ben winked
at Meg. "Besides, it will give him something to think about. I know I
enjoy thinking about you." 

Ben pulled Meg on top of him so she lay with one ear on his chest. As Ben
slowly ran his hands up and down her bare back, Meg thought of a verse of
a song she'd listened to the day before on her CD player. So many hands
were lost
 In the valleys of my spine
 So many arms have sworn to love
 But given time have said no more 

"Ben?" 

"Hmm?", Ben said as he reached up to kiss her shoulder. 

"Last night, after we made love, you said you loved me. Did you mean it?" 

"After which time are your referring to?," he said with a twinkle in his
eye. 

Meg's head shot up and she poked him in the ribs as she said, "Fraser!!" 

Ben leaned his head back as far as he could and chuckled while continuing
to rub Meg's back gently. Meg looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Would you mind telling me what is so funny?" 

Meg slipped off of Ben's body to prop herself on her side beside him with
her elbow. Ben turned his head to look into her eyes. 

"Meg, you've known me for long enough and know me well enough to know that
I mean what I say and that I don't take making love, which is truly what
we did last night, lightly." 

"So, I take it that means yes," she echoed his words from the previous
night. 

"Yes, Meg, that means yes. In fact, you are only the second woman I've
ever said those words too. It ended . . .," Ben turned his head to
momentarily look at the ceiling before turning back to Meg's dark eyes.
"It ended badly with the first, but I know that won't happen this time." 

"Victoria Metcalf was the other woman. Am I right?" 

Ben looked back at the ceiling and closed his eyes. 

"Yes, Victoria Metcalf was the other woman." 

"Ben, I'm not upsetting you, am I?" 

He turned his head back towards her face. 

"No, no, no, It's, uh, it's OK. In fact, I want to share this with you." 

Meg inched closer to Ben and wrapped her arm around his waist. Ben lay on
his back and looked at the ceiling as he told Meg the entire story of his
relationship with Victoria Metcalf: from their time at Fortitude Pass to
the way she haunted him for 10 years to her return and near destruction of
his life to his recovery from Ray's bullet and his continuing recovery
from his emotional scars. He told her things he had never told anyone
before, including Ray. 

When he finished, Ben looked back to Meg's eyes. Through his own tear
filled eyes, he saw tears in her eyes. 

"Thank you, Ben. Thank you for sharing that with me." 

She leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. She pulled back and looked
into his eyes. 

"Ben, uh, may I, I mean, could you. . ." 

"You want to see the scar from the bullet?" 

"Yes, if I may." 

"Yeah, yeah, it's all right." 

Ben took Meg's hand in his and brought it up to his lips and kissed it.
Releasing the hand, he slowly sat up and turned his back towards her. Meg
nearly gasped as she saw the bullet scar for the first time. Slowly, she
reached out the hand Ben had just kissed and laid it on the scar. She felt
Ben shudder slightly. In response, she removed her hand and leaned forward
to softly kiss the scar on Ben's back. Meg slowly slid her lips toward the
shoulder closer to her. As she reached the shoulder, Ben turned towards
her and pulled her on top of him as he lay back down. Looking deeply into
Meg's eyes, Ben whispered three words. 

"No, thank you." 

"I love you, Ben Fraser." 

And in that instant, Meg Thatcher knew she had finally found the more
she'd been looking for for so many years.