Complete At Last 

by Jackie 

pixie7@gte.net	 

 It had been almost a month since it happened, but the painful memories
still lingered in her mind as though it happened yesterday. Softly, Lynda
ran her fingers over the ivory keys of her piano, playing her favorite
song, Fur Elise, trying to put the past in the past. It was useless,
though. She could not get him out of her mind. She stopped playing and
looked out of 

the alcove windows, just watching the activity on Lake Michigan. 

 Oh, Derek, she thought, how could you have done this to me? She
remembered painfully about finding out that her boyfriend - or more
appropriately ex-boyfriend - was an FBI agent. She had been angry, of
course, but more than anything, she felt betrayed. She had been lied to,
and while she knew that leaving him had been the best thing for her, she
was so hurt by it as well. It had been almost a month of not seeing his
warm, green eyes, his soft smile, feeling his strong arms holding her when
she was - 

 Lynda, get a grip. He lied to you from the first time you met. Forget
him. Get on with your life. The words of her father sprang to mind as she
sighed. As much as she didn't like to admit it, he was right. Just get on
with your life, girl. You don't need him. 

 "Oh, if I could only believe that," she thought aloud. Her thoughts were
interrupted by a knock on her apartment door. Lynda got up from the piano
and went to answer it. Standing on the other side when she opened the door
were her two best friends in the entire world: her father, Detective
Stanley Kowalski, and Constable Benton Fraser. "Hey, it's about time you
showed up. 

You're late." She sounded mad, but she was smiling. 

 "Blame Fraser," Stanley answered as he and Fraser stepped inside. "He
spent most of the morning carrying groceries for an old lady and helping
her across the street and into her apartment." 

 Lynda shook her head. "Well, I'm glad you both got here in one piece.
Welsh would be pretty ticked if we don't get to work by nine." She glanced
at her wristwatch. "And we only have thirty minutes to get there. So,
let's move it." She went to get her purse from the kitchen table. 

 "Hey, Linda, what's this?" Fraser asked, eyeing an open phone book. An ad
was circled in red marker. "'Marty's Vintage Car Restoration and Repairs.
Classic cars restored and repaired to original condition, guaranteed'." He
eyed Lynda with eyebrows raised. 

 "Oh, that?" Lynda blushed slightly. "Uh, well, I'm thinking about getting
my Chevy worked on. It's been acting up lately. Now, come on, let's go."
She took the phone book from Fraser and tossed it on the couch, near Dief
who had been sleeping there. "Let's go, Dief." The wolf happily abandoned
his spot and joined the threesome as Lynda ushered them all out and locked
the door behind her.  * * * *  

 "I still don't understand why we have to come in on a Saturday morning,"
Stanley grumbled as the group walked into the Squad Room of the 27th
District Police Department. All the desks were abandoned for the weekend.
The only light came from Welsh's office, which was securely hidden from
sight. Even the blinds were drawn. 

 Lynda stopped everyone about ten feet from Welsh's closed door. "Stay
here." She left the men and Dief, and knocked on Welsh's door. "We're
here, sir." Then she rejoined her friends. 

 Stanley and Fraser glanced at each other curiously as Welsh came out.
"Constable, Detective, glad you could make it this morning. I know it's
hell asking you all to come in on a Saturday morning, but once you know
what's going on, I'm sure you won't mind." 

 "What exactly is going on?" Stanley asked. 

 Welsh sighed. "I'm glad you asked, Detective. Here's the answer." Lynda
started grinning like a Cheshire cat as Welsh stepped aside from his door
and Detective Ray Vecchio came out of the office. 

 Fraser just stared open-mouthed. "Ray?" 

 The Italian Detective grinned. "Hey, Benny, what's up?" He embraced
Fraser in a bear- crushing hug. "It's good to see you." 

 "It's good to see you, Ray." Fraser began to smile as he hugged his best
friend tighter. Dief began to bark, jump, and wag his tail. 

 Ray reached down to pet the wolf as Dief jumped up and gave him a
slobbery lick. "Hey, Dief, cut that out," Ray smiled and wiped his cheek.
Then, to the amazement of Fraser and Stanley, Ray turned to Lynda and
smiled. "Hey, Lynda. Good to see you again." 

 "Hi, Ray." They gave each other a quick hug. "How are you?" 

 "You two know each other?" Fraser looked confused. "But how?" 

 "Fraser, remember when Welsh and I left a couple months ago to work on
that special assignment? We were working on getting Ray out of the mob as
quickly as possible." 

 "That's why you couldn't say anything, right?" Stanley asked. 

 "Right, Ray. Or maybe I should say 'Dad' instead." 

 Ray eyed the blond Detective. "So, you were me." 

 "Yeah, and you weren't you." 

 "Good one, unlike the clothes." 

 "What's wrong with my clothes?" Stanley frowned. 

 "Nothing, if you're a bag lady." 

 "Watch it, Ray, that's my father you're talking about." 

 "Lynda, you know I had a reputation -" 

 "Yeah, as a fashion pig," Stanley spoke up. Lynda eyed her father. This
was not his usual behavior. 

 Ray scowled for a quick second. "Cute." He turned to Welsh. "So, when can
I get back to work, sir?" 

 "Monday morning, bright and early." 

 "I'll be there." 

 Stanley snorted and quickly walked off. Everyone eyed him as he
disappeared around a corner. 

 "Uh, I'll be right back." Lynda hurried off after her father. She caught
up with him. "Whoa, what's wrong?" 

 "Nothing." 

 "Don't give me that." She herded him into a nearby interrogation room and
closed the door behind her. "Now, what's wrong?" 

 "I think it's pretty obvious, Lynda." 

 "Ray, right?" 

 "Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" Stanley replied sarcastically. 

 Lynda overlooked that sarcasm. "I thought you'd be happy that the real
Ray Vecchio is back." 

 "Yeah, cause that makes me a phony, right?" 

 "No, it makes you my father." Lynda sighed wearily. "Look, I'm sorry that
I had to keep everything from you. I know how much you liked filling in
for him." 

 "You know, I knew that one day, he was going to come back, but I didn't
think it'd be so soon. I mean, it's like . . . he's making a big splash,
coming in here like he owns the place, and now I have to give up
everything: my job, my name, my friends . . ." 

 "Friends? What do you mean?" Suddenly, it clicked in her mind. "Do you
think that now Ray is back Fraser's going to not be your friend anymore?" 

 "Well . . ." 

 "Dad, Fraser isn't like that. You know that better than I do. Ray is
Fraser's friend, yes, but so are you." 

 "Yeah, well, he didn't show it earlier," Stanley replied bitterly. 

 "You know why? Because I know that Fraser is delighted to have Ray back,
but I think he also wants you to be able to live your own life, not hide
behind the name of another person." 

 "You want to know what my life was before I met Fraser? I had just gotten
divorced from Stella, I lost my job, and - I'm not proud to say this - I
spent every night getting plastered in a bar. That was my life before I
met Fraser, and there is no way I'm going back." 

 "Then start over." 

 "With what?" 

 "How about me?" 

 Stanley looked down at his daughter, standing only two feet from him.
There was sincerity in her voice and eyes, along with a hint of the
desperate plea of a child. "You?" 

 "Yeah, we still have nineteen years to finish catching up on. I don't
know about you, but I'm anxious to get started." 

 "Okay, so I got my daughter. But I don't have a job or friends." 

 "Yes, you do. Fraser and everyone else will still be your friends, and,
according to Welsh, you still have a job here . . . as Detective Stanley
Kowalski." 

 "Really?" 

 "Really. Oh, and about this father/daughter thing. If I'm going to now be
able to tell everyone I'm your daughter, then I figured might as well make
it legal." 

 Stanley knitted his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" 

 "I had my name legally changed to Peterson-Kowalski. Lynda Anna
Peterson-Kowalski, the daughter of Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski." 

 Stanley just stared at Lynda, unable to move or speak. After a few
moments, he was able to finally put his arms around her in a tight hug.
"Damn right you are," he choked on those words. 

 As father and daughter stood hugging, they didn't know that on the other
side of the mirror, Fraser, Ray, Welsh, and Dief were watching them. 

 "Talk about your Kodak moment," Ray smiled wryly. "They always like this,
Benny?" 

 "Yes, Ray." 

 "Why?" 

 "Well, because Ray - er, Stanley, is Lynda's real father, whom she didn't
know existed until recently." 

 "I know that, Fraser. She's really nice, way beyond her years." 

 "No doubt about that," Welsh replied. "Listen, I have to get some
paperwork done, so I'll leave the four of you -" Dief growled slightly
"-okay, *five* of you, to get back into the swing of things. Oh, Ray, it
will give you a chance to get to know your new partner, as well." He
turned to leave. 

 "Partner?" Besides Fraser and Dief, Ray had never worked alongside anyone
else. "You mean, me and Kowalski?" Welsh nodded. "Aw, Lieu, why? He hates
me." 

 "Don't question my judgement, Vecchio. You, Kowalski, partners. Get used
to it." He left, shutting the door behind him. Ray grumbled. 

 Fraser cleared his throat. "As I was saying earlier, Ray, Lynda and R
-Stanley, are each other's missing link. Like you and I are . . . do you
remember what you said to me when I had amnesia? 'Alone we're
incomplete-'" 

 "'-but together we're better than we are separately'," Ray finished, a
smile spreading slowly across his face. "Okay, I see your point." He
sighed. "Well, let's go and let them in on the new arrangements." 

 Fraser, Ray, and Dief left the viewing room and knocked on the
interrogation room door. Before anyone could answer, Ray barged in. "Okay,
enough with this mushy sentiments. There's some new stuff you two might
want to know about." 

 "Such as?" Lynda raised her eyebrows. 

 "Well, to start off, your father and I are now working together . . . as
partners." 

 "Cool." 

 "'Cool'?" Stanley looked down at his daughter. "Why 'cool'?" 

 "Well, now we'll all be working together," Lynda answered
mater-of-factly. "My father, my favorite wolf, and my best friends in the
entire world. Nothing could make this day go better." 

 "Well, actually, there is one thing," Ray spoke up. "How about giving me
the keys to my car, Fraser?" 

 Fraser and Stanley both got the deer-in-the-headlights look. Even Dief
whimpered and hid in a corner of the room. 

 "Okay," Lynda replied as she reached into the pocket of her slacks and
pulled out a set of keys. Fraser and Stanley stared as she handed them to
Ray. "You car's outside in the parking lot, Ray. I hope you don't mind,
but Fraser let me borrow it so I could get it cleaned up for you." 

 "Thanks, Lynda." Ray walked out of the room and down the corridors. Lynda
and the others followed behind him. 

 "Lynda, what the hell are you doing?" Stanley hissed in her ear as they
walked down the halls. 

 "You'll see." 

 They all walked out to the parking lot. Fraser, Stanley, and Dief
couldn't believe what they saw before their eyes. It was Ray's 1971 Buick
Rivera, exactly how Fraser remembered it before he and Stanley had driven
it into Lake Michigan. The exterior looked perfect, not one chip, crack,
or peel. Ray examined his car, sitting in the driver's seat after being
gone so long, enjoying every moment of it as a child would a new toy. 

 "Lynda, what did you do?" Stanley whispered. 

 "I fished the car out of the Lake." 

 "But I don't recall you even knowing about the Riv," Fraser was
perplexed. 

 "Welsh told me while I was helping out with Ray's case. He asked me not
to mention it to Ray what really happened, so I didn't. From what I
gathered, Ray really likes his car." 

 "Obsessed is more like it," Fraser corrected. "So, you really -" 

 "Yes, I really hired people to drag the Lake, fish the car out, and get
it painted up before he came back. I figured it wouldn't be good for Ray
to come back and find his car destroyed. Besides, I like you guys a lot,
and you didn't really cause the car to explode, so I figured what Ray
doesn't know won't hurt you." 

 "Lynda, you are a saint." Stanley hugged his daughter gratefully. 

 "Thank you most kindly," Fraser sounded relieved. 

 "No problem." They stopped talking as Ray came back over. "Everything in
order, Ray?" 

 "Not really. I mean, I've been gone almost a year, and I come back to
find out that my Riv is not the way I left it." 

 "How so, Ray?" Fraser asked nervously. 

 "Someone messed with my radio buttons." Fraser sighed inwardly. "How many
times have I asked you, Fraser, not to mess with the pre-set radio
buttons?" 

 "I apologize, Ray." 

 "It's okay, Fraser." 

 There was a moment of awkward silence. Lynda glanced around. She and her
father stood off to one side, while Fraser and Ray stood across from them.
It was as if they were two different, opposing sides, and in a way, they
were: The Kowalskis vs. Fraser and Ray. Dief sat on his haunches, not
really on one side or the other. Lynda knew it would be that way from now
on, considering she was Stanley's daughter and Fraser and Ray were best
friends. Still . . . 

 She cleared her throat. "Look, I know it's early, but why don't we head
back to my place? I can get some lunch started and we can get to know each
other in a more casual setting." 

 The men agreed and soon they were off. Stanley, Lynda, and Dief in the
Chevy, and Fraser and Ray followed them in the Riv. Soon, they made their
way to Lynda's complex, and were in her apartment.  

* * * * 

 "Whoa, very swank," Ray whistled as the five hustled inside. He walked
over to the alcove and looked outside. "And a great view." 

 "Thanks," Lynda replied. "Listen, I'll get lunch started. Is soup and
sandwiches okay for everyone?" They nodded. "Okay, just make yourselves at
home." She disappeared in the kitchen, with Dief close behind. 

 Ray sighed and stretched before taking off his charcoal Armani jacket and
sitting in one of Lynda's soft cushiony chairs. Fraser sat down on the
sofa and played with his Stetson. Stanley sat on the edge of the piano
bench. 

 "Well," Fraser said after five seconds of silence, "Ray, how was the
assignment?" 

 "Undercover's undercover, Fraser." 

 "Yeah, tell me about it," Stanley replied. 

 "Would you like to know what's been going on since you left?" Fraser
asked. 

 "Already know: Frannie's a Civilian Aid and she and Turnbull are getting
serious, Jack's got a new partner, and your apartment's gone. That about
cover it?" 

 "How do you know all this stuff?" Stanley asked. "I thought that you
weren't supposed to contact anyone." 

 "He didn't," Lynda answered from the kitchen. "Ray and I got to know each
other pretty well while I was working on the case." She giggled. "You
wouldn't believe some of the things he told me about Fraser." Fraser paled
slightly. 

 Stanley smiled slyly. "Such as?" 

 "Once, Fraser had to dress up as a woman to go undercover in an all
girl's Catholic school." 

 Stanley stifled a laugh, but it was in vain. "Fraser? A cross-dresser?" 

 Lynda came in, carrying a tray of sandwiches and four bowls of tomato
soup. "Lunch is ready." She set the tray down and let the men dive in.
Lynda took an extra sandwich and gave it to Dief. He carried it to his
spot under the coffee table and began eating. 

 "So, Lynda," Ray sat around a bite, "how are things with you and
Stafford?" 

 Stanley, Fraser and Lynda jerked their heads up quickly. They stared at
each other, not sure as how to answer the question. 

 "Ray . . . I don't think that's such a good question to ask right now." 

 "Fraser," Lynda held up her hand. "It's okay. He didn't know." She turned
to face Ray from her spot on the couch. "Stafford and I broke up a month
ago. He lied to me about who he really was, and I . . . didn't handle it
very well." 

 "What did he lie about?" 

 "He turned out to be an FBI agent by the name of Derek Laramie, age
twenty-three, who was trying to get a disk from me." 

 "Ouch." Ray grimaced. 

 "Yeah." Lynda tried to smile. She sighed. "But you know, I've actually
done so much with my life since then. I'm going to sing the Duck Boy's
song at my next performance -" 

 "They wrote a song?" Ray's eyebrows shot up. 

 "It's really good. I've also been working on a few songs of my own." 

 "Is your band still together?" Ray asked cautiously. 

 "Yeah, except for Derek, we've pretty much been running normally. We've
lowered the number of shows we do to two a month. We're still debating
what we're going to do when Christmas comes around." 

 "Do the other band members know?" 

 "About Derek? No, Ray, they don't know. I told the others that 'Stafford'
and I had a fight, and we decided that it would be best if he left and I
stayed." She sighed again, something she only did when she was extremely
upset about something. "Let's change the subject, okay?" 

 Derek Laramie was not brought up once during the remainder of the day.  

* * * *  

 The weekend past by quickly. The following Monday morning Lynda was
sitting at her desk, Dief laying somberly at her feet. She was already
hard at work, trying to get Ray's file and Stanley's file back in proper
order when her father, Ray, and Fraser strolled in. 

 "Good morning," she greeted them cheerfully. 

 "Hey." 

 "Good morning, Lynda." 

 "Morning." 

 Stanley peered at her computer screen. "Whatcha up to?" 

 "Trying to sort through your file and Ray's file. Welsh asked me to put
the correct information with the correct person." 

 "And?" Ray asked. 

 "I should be done soon." 

 "Nerd." 

 "I prefer to be called a hacker, Ray." 

 "Whatever. Look, I'll be at my desk." He walked off. 

 "Hey, wait a minute," Stanley went after him. "That's my work space." 

 "I think I'll go with them, just to make sure they don't kill each other
over a desk," Fraser politely excused himself. 

 Lynda smiled before going back to her work. She was scrolling through the
information when something caught her attention. Two bold words of a file
document stood out in plain sight: 'TRANSFER NOTIFICATION'. She frowned as
she brought up the document. As she scrolled down, she gasped quietly. If
she was reading the file correctly, Stanley was going to be transferred to
L.A. Lynda grabbed her father's file and flipped through the papers. The
same document was there, signed by both Stanley and Welsh, dated two days
before Ray left for his assignment. 

 She couldn't believe it. Her father let her ramble on and on about being
a family, when he knew he was going to be leaving her. Angry and hurt,
Lynda jumped from her chair and went over to where Stanley and Ray were
arguing about the desk. Fraser stood by, not saying a word. 

 "How can you work like this?" Ray asked, eying the piles and messy stacks
of papers. 

 "It's organized." 

 "It's a mess." 

 "It's an organized mess." 

 "Yeah, well organize it somewhere else." 

 Stanley calmly picked up the stacks, then threw them across the room.
Papers littered the floor. "Happy?" 

 "Both of you knock it off," Lynda spoke up. 

 Stanley turned to look at his daughter when he received a hard slap from
her. It was the first, and only time, that Lynda ever struck her father.
"Geez, what the hell was that for?" Stanley rubbed his cheek gingerly.
Fraser and Ray stared wide-eyed. 

 "How could you lie to me like this? I thought you cared about me." Lynda
looked hurt. 

 "What are you talking about?" 

 "This." She thrust the transfer papers at him. 

 Stanley scanned the papers, then his face paled. "Oh." 

 "What?" Ray asked. 

 "Transfer papers," Stanley answered. 

 "Signed two days before you left, Ray." Lynda looked at her father. "When
were you going to tell me? Tonight? Tomorrow? When you were packing up
your things? When I received a phone call from L.A.? Or were you just
going to slip away and never look back?" 

 "Lynda, look, I have an explanation." 

 "Oh, this ought to be good," Ray folded his arms across his chest. 

 "Do you mind?" Stanley frowned at him. He turned back to Lynda. "I forgot
about that, I'm sorry." 

 "But . . . why were you going to leave?" 

 "Because I wanted to begin a new life. Remember how crappy my life was?" 

 "And now?" 

 "There's no way I'm leaving now." Lynda smiled. Ray rolled his eyes.
"Look, I'll talk to Welsh and get that transfer canceled." He walked off
to Welsh's office. Lynda was close behind. 

 Welsh's door was open, so the two walked in. Welsh looked up from some
papers he was reading. "Yes?" 

 "Sir, I want my transfer to L.A. to be canceled. I want to stay." He
handed Welsh the papers. 

 Welsh scanned them, then eyed father and daughter. He sighed. "Look, I
don't have any say in who gets transferred in or out." 

 "Sir," Lynda pleaded, "please don't let this happen. I've already lost my
mother. I don't want to lose my father also. 

 Welsh looked at Lynda, then reached for his phone. He dialed a number.
"Hello? Yes, this is Lieutenant Harding Welsh, Chicago Police, 27th
District. I need to talk to Commissioner Fitzgerald . . . Commissioner
Fitzgerald? Lieutenant Welsh. I'm calling in regards for Detective Stanley
Kowalski's transfer. There's been a slight change of plans regarding this
transfer, and Detective Kowalski is needed here in Chicago. I would
appreciate it if - yes, I know, but - is that so? Well, you can kiss mine
as well!" He slammed down the receiver hard. 

 "What did he say?" Lynda asked. 

 "Something that can't be repeated in front of you. As for your father's
transfer . . . he's due in L.A. by the end of the week." 

 "But that's five days from now!" Stanley frowned. 

 "I tried to talk to him, Detective, but he just won't listen. I'm sorry."


 Lynda just shook her head in disbelief as tears slowly ran down her
cheeks. Stanley put his arms around her and held her close. She lay her
head on his shoulder and cried softly, as Welsh watched helplessly. He
tried not to look at them, but he could have sworn he saw a tear run down
Stanley's cheek.  

* * * *  

 The next five days were the worst ones for Stanley and Lynda. Together,
they packed up his belongings and closed his apartment. During that entire
time, not one word was spoken. There was just two much to say, but no way
it could be said. Finally, Friday afternoon rolled in, and Stanley was
finished clearing what was once his desk. He put the last of his things in
a box. Now all that was left to do was saying goodbye. 

 As the entire Squad Room watched, Stanley first bid farewell to some of
the other cops, then the Duck Boys, then Francesca. Now it was time for
the hardest ones. 

 "Take care of yourself," Welsh said as he shook the Detective's hand. 

 "Thanks for putting up with me, sir." He moved on to Ray. "Well, it was a
pleasure to be you." 

 "I appreciate you filling in," Ray said as he and Stanley shook hands. 

 Fraser was next, along with Dief. "Well, Big Red, it's been an . . .
experience. But it was worth it." He shook the Mountie's hand firmly. 

 "Same here, Stan. Same here." Dief whimpered. 

 Finally, it was time to say goodbye to his daughter. He looked down at
her as she tried to smile. Without saying a word, they hugged each other
tightly. A single tear fell from Lynda's eye. "Give 'em hell," she
whispered. 

 Stanley smiled. He had said the same thing before she left for her
assignment to meet Ray for the first time. "I will." He looked at Fraser
and Ray. "Will you two keep an eye on her for me? 

 "No problem, Stan." Ray nodded. 

 He reluctantly let her go, then grabbed his jacket and box and quietly
made his way out. Before he disappeared behind the Squad Room doors, he
looked back one last time, then disappeared from sight. 

 The other officers went back to their business. Lynda slowly made her way
back to her desk and sat in her chair. Ray and Fraser watched her. 

 "Lynda?" Ray asked. "You okay?" 

 "I shouldn't have let him go. I mean, he was right there, and I could
have stopped him, but I let him go . . . what was I -" She never got to
finish her statement as Stanley burst in through the Squad Room doors. 

 "I can't do it," he said as he walked over to Lynda's desk. 

 "Dad!" Lynda smiled as she stood up and hugged her father. 

 "I'm not going to leave you, Lynda. I don't care what happens, but I'm
not leaving." 

 "What's going on?" Welsh yelled as he came out of his office. 

 "He's staying!" Lynda cried happily. 

 "Lynda, he can't," Welsh gently explained. "We've been over this before."


 "Look, sir, I can't leave my daughter." 

 "Detective, if there was a way -" 

 "I have an idea," Lynda said slowly. "Sir, did you mail Dad's transfer
papers to L.A. yet?" 

 "No." 

 "Can you get them for me?" Welsh went back to his office. "Dad, can I see
your lighter?" Stanley reached into his jeans pocket and fished his
lighter out. He handed it to her as Welsh came back out. He handed a
manila envelope containing the papers to Lynda. Before anyone could say a
word, Lynda started the lighter and set the envelope ablaze. 

 "Lynda, what are you doing?" Welsh asked as he threw the flaming envelope
in an empty trash can. 

 "Getting rid of the papers. L.A. doesn't have any copies of the papers,
so Dad can stay here." 

 "Lynda, they do have them. On computer." 

 "Sir, do you know who you're talking to?" She sat back in her chair and
grabbed a unmarked disk from her disk holder. She put it into her machine
and begin typing. 

 "What are you doing?" Stanley watched earnestly. 

 "I'm going to find that file which your transfer records are in, and
upload a virus into them. It won't hurt any of the other files, and, most
importantly, it can't be traced." 

 "Ooo, I like the way she thinks," Ray smiled. Fraser look less than
pleased, but didn't say a word. 

 Lynda typed fast and furious, and downloaded the file into the L.A.P.D.'s
computer system. "Now, I need to do the same thing with our system." The
virus was quickly downloaded into the system. In a matter of seconds, the
transfer file was completely destroyed. 

 "Lynda," Welsh spoke gently, "look, I want you to know that-" 

 "Save it, sir. I don't want to hear it. This was the only way that Dad
could stay. No records of any transfers, no transferring. I know it wasn't
exactly legal, but who's going to tell?" 

 Everyone immediately turned to Fraser. "Me?" he asked. "Lynda, I don't
agree with your methods sometimes, but you can rest assured that I won't
tell." 

 "So, now we're hiding illegal activities, are we, Son?" Fraser, Sr.,
appeared next to Fraser. "The Yank's daughter is quiet the criminal, isn't
she?" 

 "She is not." 

 "Still talking to yourself, huh, Benny?" 

 Before Fraser could answer, his dad vanished. 

 "Lynda," Welsh cleared his throat. "All I want to say is that I wanted
you to know that there are still two paper copies of the transfer records
on my desk. It would be a shame if they caught on fire, don't you think?"
He smiled. 

 "Gotcha," Lynda smiled back. Welsh walked back into his office, leaving
the five around Lynda's desk. 

 "Lynda, you want to go to a movie tonight?" Stanley asked. 

 "Sure." 

 "How about you two?" Stanley asked Ray and Fraser. 

 "You two need to spend some time by yourselves," Fraser replied. "You're
Lynda's father, and you two belong together." 

 "Yeah, maybe another time," Ray agreed. "Now, let's get to work." 

 The three older men walked over to Ray's desk, leaving Lynda with Dief.
The young Civilian Aid watched them for a few seconds, before resuming her
work. As far as she was concerned, all was right with the world. She had
her father, and Ray and Fraser were together once more. She smiled to
herself. 

 Everything was complete at last.  

THE END