Sudden Gift of Fate
by Scout
CHAPTER ONE
Wide eyed girl
It was hot. It was hot and it was sticky and Fraser sighed as he once again tossed and turned in bed trying to get comfortable. As usual the dog days of summer had brought sweltering heat and humidity to the city of Chicago which even the setting sun could do little to alleviate. Fraser flopped over onto his stomach letting his arms dangle over the side of the bed to the floor. He sighed again and Diefenbaker looked up from where he too was lying wide-awake on the
braided rug at the foot of the bed. The Mountie eyed the wolf with a frown.
"Don't look at me like that. I have no control over the weather."
Dief continued to stare at him, one ear cocking skeptically. Fraser rolled his eyes.
"For the last time we are not getting an air conditioner. There's only one window and I am not blocking it off just to satisfy you. Besides if I did it would cut off your escape route and you wouldn't be able to leave the apartment like I know you do every time my back is turned."
Dief lowered his head onto his front paws guiltily.
"Yeah, I thought that would shut you up."
Just then the faint stirrings of violin music began drifting in through the open window. Fraser raised his head.
"Sounds like we're not the only ones who can't sleep tonight."
He squinted in the darkness listening intently to the ethereal notes of the oddly familiar melody.
His thoughts strayed back to an earlier time in his life and a woman he'd known. The violin song was very much like one she'd often sung. His mouth quirked into a half smile at the memory. Fraser reached across the nightstand and turned on the lamp suddenly. Dief rumbled low in his throat.
"It's nothing." The Mountie said absently as he reached under the bed and pulled out a worn looking shoebox.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and began digging through the contents of the box. Finally he pulled out a picture and stared at it thoughtfully. He was sitting in a pub booth with a young woman leaning over him from behind. Her right hand dangling over his right shoulder where the Mountie held it affectionately in his own. Both of them were smiling goofily for the camera. He rubbed his thumb tenderly over the photograph and smiled wanly.
He turned the photograph over, Cavanaugh's Nov 1990 was written there, in his hand. She had left him not long after that.
A commotion outside the window brought his attention back to the present and Fraser crossed the room to see what was happening. He climbed out onto the fire escape and saw two men engaged in a heated argument on the deserted sidewalk below. The man doing most of the yelling was a tall skinny blonde, perhaps a year or two younger than the Mountie. He was gesturing wildly with his arms as he spoke and had a pronounced Irish accent. The other one was heavier and older, early fifties perhaps. He had a full head of salt and pepper hair and a bushy graybeard. Both men were dressed casually in tee shirts, jeans and work boots. In addition, the older man had a pair of heavy leather work gloves cinched into his belt, leading Fraser to speculate that perhaps the two men worked construction.
"Those Bastards!" The blonde was yelling. "They won't get away with this!"
"Get away with what?" The older man said calmly.
It was obvious that he was doing his best to soothe his agitated companion.
"Look, Lochlainn it's not like they fired you or anything right. It was just a warning. You're lucky that's all they gave you after showing up at the site drunk off your ass like that."
"I wasn't drunk. I was perfectly fine. There was no need for that bastard Kennedy to go off on me like that. Makes him feel like a big man to eat the head off a' me in front of everyone does it? Well next time he'd better watch his step or I'll knock him on his fat arse!"
The older man crossed his arms with a look on his face that said he'd heard all this before.
"Lochlainn." He said annoyed. "You and I both know that this isn't the first time something like this has happened and frankly me and the other guys are getting sick of covering for you at work. I mean get your priorities straight man, you got a kid at home to take care of don't you?"
Lochlainn looked up sharply shooting the man an extremely dirty look before grunting "Yah."
"Okay then. Take a little friendly advice and get some help or something, before you wind up losing your job and you and that kid of yours both wind up out on the street."
Embarrassed that he was eavesdropping, Fraser retreated back into his apartment quietly. He felt bad for the man Lochlainn, and he hoped he would take his friend's advice and find some help as soon as possible. As Fraser climbed back into bed, he mused that he had never seen the man before tonight. Perhaps he was new to the neighborhood. If so perhaps the Mountie could offer his own assistance, although he wasn't sure if there was anything he could do. Still it never hurt to offer. Odd, he thought as he finally began drifting off to sleep, how he'd been thinking about her and a moment later someone with an Irish accent winds up under his window. She'd had a word for things like that. What was it? Serendipity that was it. In the distance, the violin abruptly ceased playing and
Fraser sighed and rolled over onto his side. The peacefully slumbering wolf was his last sight before finally falling asleep.
"Audrey, I really don't think this is a good idea."
"Nonsense Ben. This is exactly what you need. A chance to get out and meet people, make some friends, have a few laughs, relax a little bit. You've been months up in the territories all by yourself with no one to talk to but the polar bears. Frankly I'm surprised you haven't lost the ability to communicate with other human beings all together. It's bad enough you spend all your free time with your nose buried in a book, you've practically turned into a hermit for goodness sakes."
Fraser sighed staring at his animated friend in resignation. He knew she wasn't going to let this drop. She was tired of him `moping around her apartment' as she so succinctly put it, apparently it was having a detrimental effect on her own social life. He'd known Audrey since they were both kids living in Tuktoyaktuk. She was two years older than Fraser and seemed to think that gave her the right to tell him what to do. Not that he really minded, sometimes it was nice to have someone around to make all your decisions for you that way you were spared the risk of making the wrong ones for yourself. A brief image of regal Grecian features and cascading brown curls popped into his head suddenly and he firmly pushed the thought aside not wishing to open that wound again.
"I mean you're young, devilishly handsome and unattached. Live a little for crying out loud." Audrey was going on. "Go find us a booth and I'll order us some drinks."
"Audrey, I really don't want any-"
"Oh, would you relax! One beer won't kill you. Now go, find a booth."
She placed a hand on his back and gave him a firm yet gentle shove towards the tables scattered around the pub. With a sigh, Fraser watched his friend wind her way through the sea of people at the bar for a moment, before making for an empty booth he spotted near the back of the room. He sat down thinking how much he did not want to be here and wondered how soon he could make up some excuse to leave without seeming rude. Maybe he should have just gone home for the holidays, but somehow watching his father and grandmother endlessly sniping at one another for the entire visit just didn't seem appealing to him. Audrey on the other hand, always gave him a place to stay no matter when or for how long he happened to show up. In between patrols, he would often stay with her. There was nothing romantic between them, he slept on the couch and she in her bedroom,
they were friends that was all.
Usually he didn't mind going out with her. Audrey was outgoing and she made friends very easily, sometimes it seemed as if she knew everyone in Dawson Creek by name. He admired that in her, the way she was so at ease in front of complete strangers while he on the other hand always felt awkward and self conscious with new people. Most of the time he was content to let her do all the talking while
he faded into the background and merely observed. He didn't mind being known as a good listener by most of Audrey's friends, especially her girl friends who seemed to find it an attractive quality in him, but tonight he simply wasn't in the mood.
Audrey had sensed that something was wrong ever since Fraser had shown up on her doorstep last week at 5 AM. He'd wanted to tell her all about Victoria and unburden himself, but somehow he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. Every time he'd tried a lump would form in his throat cutting off the words. He was beginning to think that coming here had been a mistake. More than anything he just wanted to be alone. Perhaps he should make his way back to the territories and put in for another patrol assignment, maybe work would be the best way to get his mind off his recent troubles.
He wondered what was keeping his friend, when he spied her engaged in deep conversation with a young blonde man at the bar. Fraser studied him for a moment deciding that he was thoroughly infatuated and sighed heavily. He couldn't really blame the young man Audrey was after all beautiful, her Cree ancestry showing in her tall slender build, deep brown almond shaped eyes and copper skin and in her long shining dark hair, but it did leave Fraser in a somewhat awkward
position. She was liable to be up there for hours leaving him to fend for himself, still he had wanted to be alone though he probably would have chosen different surroundings. A petite waitress with pulled back strawberry blonde hair approached him with a smile.
"What can I get you?" She asked pleasantly.
"A cup of tea would be fine for now. Thank you." Fraser said returning the smile.
She nodded writing down his order on her pad as she left. Slightly bored, Fraser let his gaze wander to the stage behind him. Cavanaugh's Pub regularly featured live entertainment, which unfortunately tended a little too much toward Irish drinking songs for Fraser's taste. It was a shame really, since there was a fine
looking if underused piano sitting right there begging to be played. He was still staring at it when a voice said from behind him.
"An feidir leat seinm?"
Fraser whirled around in his seat to discover a vision in green standing before him. She was small no more than 5ft3 he guessed and fine boned as well. Her deep auburn hair was cropped short into a pixie cut, which complemented her heart shaped face and delicately pointed chin perfectly. She was pale skinned; though there was a fine dusting of freckles on her cheeks and across her small slightly
upturned nose. Her lips were full and turned up on one side into a lopsided smile that brought out a dimple on her right cheek, but it was her eyes that held Fraser's attention. She had the most penetrating pair of green eyes he'd ever seen in his life. It wasn't just the color, which reminded Fraser of the color of the sea after a storm, it was the mischief that he saw lurking in them. He found himself unconsciously returning her smile.
"Excuse me?" He said.
"Can you play?" She asked, the words tumbling out in a soft Irish lilt. "I saw you noticing how lonely the piano is sitting up there and I wondered if you could play."
Fraser's smile turned a little self conscious. "Who me? No. That is not really, well not very well at any rate. I mean I did take lessons as a boy, but I haven't played in years."
The young woman tilted her head slightly. "They say you never forget. It's like riding a bicycle."
Her smile grew broader and Fraser wasn't sure if he was being made fun of or not, but he felt himself blushing anyway. Just then the waitress returned with not just a cup, but an entire pot of tea and two overturned mugs on a tray. She placed the tray firmly on the table and left with a wink to the young woman.
"Thanks Fee." She said, then sat down across from the Mountie.
Fraser felt vaguely uncomfortable by her close proximity, but she seemed not to notice, all but ignoring him as she turned over first one cup then the other.
"Milk?" She asked pleasantly.
"Thank you." Fraser answered automatically.
She poured a small amount of milk into each cup then lifted the cover on the tea pot and peered inside eyeing its contents critically. Frowning slightly, she replaced the cover and sighed staring at the tea pot impatiently.
"You know, there's a science to making the perfect cup of tea." She said. "The key is to allow the tea to steep for exactly five minutes. Any more than that and you wind up with a thoroughly bitter concoction, any less and you might as well be drinking colored water."
She looked up at Fraser and laughed suddenly. "My God, you have an intent look on your face." She said. "Are you always such a hard listener, or are you just unusually fascinated by tea preparation?"
"Actually I was just thinking that you've been sitting here for a while now and I still don't know your name."
She laughed again and Fraser wondered if she did that often, just laughed whenever the mood struck her. He found himself hoping that she did.
"I'm sorry. Where are my manners? Saoirse McGowan." She said.
"Benton Fraser." He replied.
"Seer-sha." He repeated thoughtfully. "That's an unusual name."
"It's Irish."
"Is it really? I never would have guessed."
Her smile returned. "Are you making fun of me Benton Fraser?" She asked her voice amused.
Fraser returned the smile. "No Ma'am." He said.
Her eyes lingered on his face for a moment before returning to the tea. She poured the steaming amber liquid into each cup.
"Sugar?" She asked.
"No thank you."
She dropped one lump into her own cup and handed the other to Fraser. "Cheers." She said before taking a deep sip.
She watched the Mountie drink, raising one eyebrow expectantly when he finished. "Well?"
"Without a doubt, that is the finest cup of tea I've ever tasted."
"Now you are making fun of me." She chuckled.
"Not at all. You really have gotten tea making down to a science."
She took another thoughtful sip. "Oh, I certainly hope you're not one of those dry scientific types who doesn't believe in anything unless you're presented with undeniable documented proof."
"On the contrary. I like to think I keep a very open mind to all possibilities. No matter how improbable they may be."
She tilted her head and looked at him as though she were contemplating a puzzle.
"You're in law enforcement." She stated suddenly. "RCMP?"
Fraser's eyes widened briefly in surprise, since he wasn't wearing his uniform.
"Yes actually. How did you know?"
She raised one eyebrow enigmatically. "I'm psychic."
"Really?" He asked intrigued.
Saoirse laughed musically. "Or maybe I just noticed that giant saucer of a hat sitting on the seat next to you."
Fraser looked down at his ever present Stetson. "Of course." He mumbled almost to himself. "Though most people assume Park Ranger."
"Oh, that would have been my second guess." She said wryly. "Seriously though, I don't believe you're quite as open minded as you say you are."
"Oh? What makes you say that?"
"Call it a feeling." Her sparkling green eyes turned thoughtful. "Or, maybe it isn't your mind that's closed off, but something else... Let me see your hand." She said suddenly.
Fraser blinked, unsure of where this was headed. "Excuse me?" He said warily.
"Your right hand." She clarified. She extended her own slender hand in silent invitation. "You're not afraid to hold my hand are you?" She asked, a tiny amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Reluctantly, Fraser offered his right hand, which Saoirse gently took in both of hers. At her touch, a kind of jolt ran up the length of his arm and he shivered involuntarily. It wasn't unpleasant or painful or anything, but it was unexpected.
"What was that?" He asked quietly, not quite sure that he hadn't imagined the sudden sensation.
"Sorry about that." Saoirse said somewhat sheepishly. "I should have warned you. I have an unusually strong magnetic field. I can't wear watches, the batteries drain within minutes and compasses do nothing but spin aimlessly when I'm around."
Fraser blinked, he'd never heard of such a thing and he wasn't all together convinced that she wasn't pulling his leg. Saoirse had been studying the palm of Fraser's hand intently, when she suddenly looked up as if reading the Mountie's thoughts.
"It's perfectly true, I assure you. I never know the correct time and I exist in a permanently lost state, but on the plus side it does make for brilliant sex."
She smiled mischievously at the sudden blush that suffused the Mountie's face. "What exactly is it that you're doing anyway?" Fraser asked trying to change the subject.
"Getting to know you better." She said, tracing the lines on his palm lightly with her thumb causing tiny thrills of excitement to travel up and down his spine.
"You can tell a lot about a person from his hands. For instance, your heart line tells me you have a shy gentle nature that doesn't handle rejection well. You're quite selfless and more than willing to make noble sacrifices for others. You're honest, almost to a fault and you see things with perfect clarity, things that someone else might not see at all. It also tells me you're very good at hiding your feelings and when someone hurts you, you tend to close in on yourself and prefer to be left alone.
Your life line on the other hand, tells me that you're patient and that you naturally tend to assume the lead in most situations. Your peers respect you, though they tend to be baffled by you at times as well. You're fair minded with a very solid sense of right and wrong and you bring calm to chaotic situations. You're sensitive to the needs of others, but you tend to ignore your own and often wind up pushing yourself too hard.
Then there's your head line, which shows me that you have a deep respect for other people's cultures and beliefs. You have a powerful work ethic and believe that success can be achieved through persistence, determination and patience. You're compassionate and concerned with the well-being of others often at the expense of your own. You possess substantial intellectual capacity and promise and you have a natural command of languages. You enjoy working with your hands and have a great deal of artistic ability. You have a gift for making the truth surface, a knack for quickly appraising a situation and great powers of perception, but you're neither arrogant nor intimidated by your abilities."
She looked up suddenly. "And you're nursing a broken heart."
The Mountie snatched his hand away as if he'd been suddenly stung and Saoirse quickly apologized.
"I'm sorry." She said softly. "I didn't mean to offend you or scare you. I just wanted..." She dropped her head with an ironic twist of her mouth. "Never mind. I'll be going now."
She got up to leave, but the Mountie stopped her with a soft "Wait."
Saoirse stopped regarding him silently. "You saw all that in the palm of my hand." Fraser said staring down at the table in front of him.
"All except the bit about the broken heart, that I saw in your eyes."
Fraser looked up into Saoirse's heather green eyes and considered for a moment. Was he really that easy to decipher, or was she just unusually perceptive.
"Do you believe in love at first sight Ben?" She asked suddenly. "Do you believe it's possible to meet someone once and experience a connection so deep it feels as if it's always been there spanning across a thousand lifetimes. A connection that tells you beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is the person you were meant to spend the rest of your life with? That this is the other half of your soul?"
Fraser just sat there ashen faced and immobile. Unable even to speak.
"Or would you simply dismiss it as nothing more unusual than say, an inner ear infection or electrons colliding in the air."
She smiled wanly. "In a way you're lucky you know. You found her. Some of us are doomed to wander."
"How could you possibly know any of this?" Fraser asked, finally finding his voice.
"Maybe I'm just an extremely good judge of character." She said. "Or maybe, I get these flashes of, insight I guess you'd call them. Things that suddenly pop into my head and tumble out of my mouth before I've even realized I've said them and by then it's too late to take them back." She sighed. "Or maybe, I'm looking for an excuse to drive people away just like my father says, I don't know."
For the first time Fraser noticed something. There was a certain vulnerability behind those green eyes that said she was no stranger to heartbreak herself. He flashed her a sympathetic smile.
"Funny, that's exactly what my father says about me." He said.
"In a way I think he may be right." She said slowly. "I do seem to have a particular flair for falling in love with the wrong man."
"Yes." The Mountie agreed, speaking for himself.
Suddenly they both broke out laughing. "What a couple of sad characters we are."
"Saoirse." Fraser began somewhat awkwardly. "The cinema down the street is showing, "It's a Wonderful Life." Would you... Would you care to accompany me to the next viewing?"
Saoirse smiled a radiant crooked smile. "The thought of one man's life making a difference seems very appealing to me right now." She said. "I'd love to."
Fraser retrieved his Stetson from the seat and stood, dropping some bills on the table as he did so.
"And I promise to try and keep all my embarrassing insights to myself." Saoirse said.
"Don't." Fraser said as they went to get her coat. "Everything you said was the truth and after all, I did say I like to keep an open mind."
CHAPTER TWO
One of my turns
"Earth to Benny!"
Fraser's head suddenly snapped around to focus on Ray Vecchio. He had been staring out of the passenger side window deep in thought and hadn't even noticed the Italian speaking to him.
"I'm sorry Ray. What did you say?"
Ray eyed the Mountie, fingers drumming on the steering wheel impatiently.
"You know Benny, if I'd wanted to have a conversation with myself I could've just stayed home."
Fraser smiled sheepishly at his friend.
"I'm sorry Ray. I seem to be a bit distracted today."
"Yeah, no kidding. You haven't heard a word I've said all morning. So you wanna tell me what's bothering you?"
"It's nothing." The Mountie said sighing. "I just didn't get much sleep last night that's all."
It wasn't really a lie although there was more to it than that. The dream he'd had last night had just seemed so real, as if time had somehow reversed itself and he was once again meeting her for the first time. Her radiant lopsided smile and heather green eyes had haunted him all night and the melody of the violin had mingled with his dreams and awoken long buried memories and feelings within him. He had spent the majority of the night lying awake in bed, staring at her picture forlornly. Why was it that there was so much pain associated with the women in his past?
"I'm not surprised." Ray was saying. "You couldn't pay me to spend the night in that oven you call an apartment. Look Benny, why don't you and Dief come over to my house and crash on the couch for a few days, just until the humidity breaks. I know Ma would love to have you."
The Mountie smiled at the genuine concern in his friend's voice.
"It's very kind of you to offer Ray, but really that won't be necessary. Dief and I are fine right where we are."
A low whine issued from the wolf in the back seat and Ray laughed.
"No one asked for your opinion." Fraser said, glancing back at the wolf.
"Three words Benny." Ray said smiling. "Central Air Conditioning. We've got it and you're welcome to it, anytime. Consider it an open invitation."
The Mountie smiled and nodded at his best friend's sincere offer.
Just then he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye.
"Ray stop the car." He said as his brain processed the image.
"Why? What's the matter?"
"Trouble." The Mountie called bolting from the car.
Ray followed a step behind.
"Fraser it's my day off!" He yelled at Fraser's rapidly retreating form.
Looking heavenward the Italian Detective threw his arms up in grim resignation. "Why do I even bother?"
Fraser ran down the street until he reached the alley that he and Ray had just passed. He peered around the corner careful to remain quiet. At the end of the alley he saw two small children, a girl and a boy, backed up against the concrete wall and a large dark skinned man with a gun menacing them. The boy was maybe five or six with longish, dark, slightly curly hair and his somewhat shabby clothes hung loosely on him as if they had been handed down from someone a size or two larger. The little girl was very young, possibly three or four. She had short blonde hair and was peering out from behind the boy's back where he was shielding her body with his own. Ray came up short behind Fraser, wheezing softly from the run. He took one look at the situation and quietly drew his gun. Their eyes met in silent communication and after a moment the Mountie nodded once and Ray began slowly creeping his way down the alley. The suspect's back was to the Detective and even from here he could tell the man was high on something. He was so agitated he was shaking and he was yelling something about crows or ravens or something. Great, Ray sighed inwardly why was it that the complete nuts always carried guns. He continued to slowly inch his way down the alley, not wanting to startle the suspect into shooting someone by accident. He was hoping to get directly behind the man so that he could disarm him without incident and hopefully not give him the opportunity to make hostages of the children.
Just then the boy looked up and saw him. He was a good-looking kid, except for the rather nasty looking black eye he was sporting and a split bottom lip. Ray froze, but the boy gave no indication that he had even seen the Detective and quickly returned his gaze to the man with the gun. Unfortunately the little girl had also seen him and she lacked the boy's understanding of the situation.
"Who's that?" She said pointing directly at Ray.
The boy grabbed hold of her arm and quickly tucked it behind him.
"That's Russell Lucy." He said quickly. "You remember Russell. The man with the gun."
Good boy Ray thought. Just keep him distracted long enough for me to get there. It worked, Russell hesitated but he never turned around.
"That's right." Russell said loudly. "The man with the gun. The man in charge, and you're gonna tell me what I want to know."
He was shaking but whether in anger or in fear Ray couldn't tell. The boy looked compassionately at Russell, he had extremely penetrating green eyes the Detective noticed, and shook his head slightly.
"I'm sorry Russell." He said sadly. "I don't have an answer for you."
Russell shook his head in vigorous denial. "No that's not good enough!" He shouted. "I saw the raven back at the House. He said he could see into the future. He told me you would know!"
"But I don't." The boy said quietly.
"You stop saying that! Tell me what I want to know or I'll.." he hesitated. "I'll shoot."
The hammer of the gun cocked with an audible click as Russell shoved the barrel against the boy's chest. To his credit the boy remained calm, though the color had drained from his already pale face and he was perspiring heavily. Ray was sweating as well and it was only partially due to anxiety. At 11am the temperature was already well over ninety degrees and the humid air only made it feel hotter. He brushed moisture from his brow with his forearm and stopped in his tracks, unsure of how to proceed. If he startled Russell by putting a gun in his back the boy would surely be shot, but with each moment that passed the threat of discovery grew more imminent.
The little girl had started to wail in panic and was clutching the boy compulsively. At a loss, the Detective shot a glance at the Mountie, who he knew was following at a discreet distance. Fraser too had stopped and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head to Ray's unspoken question. For now they would both have to wait, though it was damned hard for both men to just stand by and do nothing. The boy ran his tongue nervously over his bottom lip, wincing slightly at the sudden contact with the inflamed cut that he had obviously forgotten was there. He took hold of one of Lucy's hands and the little girl quieted somewhat, comforted by the reassuring contact. Ray's heart went out to the obviously kind hearted boy even as he inwardly cursed the gunman for targeting such small children. The thought of one of his own nieces or nephews at the mercy of someone like him made Ray's blood boil and it was all he could do to stand his ground.
"Russell." The boy began rather hoarsely. He cleared his throat and went on. "The raven you saw is just a tattoo. Tattoo's can't speak."
"This one did. This one spoke to me. It told me that you knew the secret language, the secret true language that you spoke to Father. I saw you speak it. Don't try to deny it."
The boy's eyebrows knit in confusion for a moment until understanding suddenly lit his face.
"You mean Irish? You saw Father Behan and I speaking in Irish and now you think I can foretell the future?"
"I know you can." The man said pressing the gun even more firmly into the boy's chest.
The boy closed his eyes as if in pain, he had started to tremble slightly Ray noticed.
"Russell." He said quietly. "Irish Gaelic is just an old language that not a lot of people speak anymore, that's all. There's nothing mystical about it. I know it because my Granddad taught it to me in Belfast, but it is no more "true" than English. You can lie to someone just as easily in Irish as in English."
"The Druids spoke it and they could see into the future." Russell said stubbornly.
"Actually that's a myth." The boy said, his voice gaining strength. "If the Druids existed at all it was probably sometime between 300 and 600 AD and at that time all of Europe spoke a common language that was actually an ancient form of German."
Ray blinked, if he hadn't known any better he would have sworn that the kid had suddenly turned into a miniature version of Fraser. Come to think of it he even looked like the Canadian. Both had thick dark hair and pale skin, and fine even featured faces, but the boy's jaw was not quite as squared as the Mountie's, and his mouth was just a little wider, and his lips, slightly fuller. Still, the resemblance was unmistakable.
Lucy had stopped crying and was now sucking her thumb and staring in wide-eyed fascination at the boy. Ray glanced at the Mountie who was also staring at the boy through slightly narrowed eyes, an odd look on his face. Russell cocked his head to one side.
"Is that the truth?" he asked.
The boy nodded once. "Yeah."
"Where'd you come up with that?"
"I read a lot."
"Yeah." Russell's brow knit in concentration. "Seems to me I remember seeing you reading at Mike's House. Seems to me every time I see you, you got a book in your hands." His eyes fell on Lucy. "He reads to you."
The little girl nodded, thumb still firmly wedged between her teeth.
"What's that book? What's that book she likes so much?"
"James and the Giant Peach." Both children said together.
"Yeah. Yeah." Russell said nodding to himself.
He scratched his head and looked at the gun wedged against the boy's chest as if just realizing that he still held it. Slowly the hammer slid forward and Russell dropped the gun to his side.
"You can go." He said quietly.
Ray sprang forward at that moment, grabbing Russell from behind. He pinned the gunman's arm behind his back and disarmed him neatly.
"Chicago PD pal, don't move." He said directly into Russell's ear. "You kids okay?"
Both children nodded mutely.
Russell had begun to sob like a baby and Ray gave a disgusted sigh as he read the man his rights and handcuffed him. The boy looked at Russell sadly for a moment before digging in his pocket and coming up with a handful of tissues. Wordlessly he stuffed them into the crying man's shirt pocket before looking up into his downcast face and flashing him a fleeting lopsided smile. Russell returned the smile weakly, though tears were streaming down his face.
"I'm so sorry." He sobbed.
"I'm gonna call a squad car to pick this guy up." Ray said. "Benny."
He nodded his head toward the children indicating to the Mountie that he should stay behind with them. Diefenbaker ran straight up to the boy and immediately began nuzzling the palm of his hand affectionately. Absently, the boy stroked the half-wolf's head as he watched Ray drag the stumbling Russell down the alley.
"What's going to happen to him now?" The boy asked the Mountie.
"Do you know him?"
The boy shrugged. "Not really. Father Behan does. I think he gives him odd jobs to do around the church sometimes. I don't think he's quite the full shilling if you know what I mean."
The Mountie smiled slightly. "What makes you say that?"
"What other than him sticking a gun in my chest? Other than that you mean?"
He didn't say it sarcastically or angrily, just curiously.
"Yes other than that." Fraser clarified.
"Well I saw him taking Zyprexa once. It's an anti-psychotic." Noting Fraser's raised eyebrows, he added. "I looked it up."
Lucy was tentatively stroking the wolf alongside the boy and Fraser smiled at her.
"His name is Diefenbaker." He said. "He's taken quite a shine to you."
The little girl flushed with pleasure and buried her face shyly in the boy's side.
"Let me guess." The boy said. "You're Canadian right?"
"Yes actually. Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police."
The boy smiled a lopsided smile. "Noah Lochlainn and this is Lucy, Lucy Steele."
Fraser nodded at both children in turn.
"Noah, Lucy, it's a pleasure to meet you." He said.
Diefenbaker barked his greeting and Lucy laughed.
"I like your dog." She said around her thumb.
"He's more of a wolf actually." Fraser said.
"Wolves don't bark, they howl." Noah said scratching between Dief's ears wearily.
"Well he's been known to do that too, on occasion." Fraser smiled.
The boy drew a trembling arm across his sweaty forehead and sat down suddenly, his back against the concrete wall.
"Are you all right?" Fraser asked concerned.
Noah nodded, though he looked far from okay. His face was ashen and his shirt collar and sleeves were soaked with perspiration.
"I'm fine. I'm just not used to how hot it gets here that's all. The States seem to have a different definition of summer than I do."
Fraser smiled sympathetically at that. He remembered his first summer in Chicago vividly. For someone who had grown up in a place that regularly remained snow covered well into May, Chicago's heat and humidity had been quite an eye opener.
"In Belfast it hardly ever went up past 70 degrees even in July and once the sun went down you'd still have to break out the sweater. The boy continued. "Here I've practically been melting ever since I stepped off the plane."
Ray reappeared suddenly and Fraser raised his eyebrows.
"That was fast." He said.
"Yeah, there was a black and white just around the corner. They're gonna fix our "friend" up with a nice padded cell back at the station."
He eyed the two children silently for a moment until Fraser made their introductions. The Italian Detective nodded somewhat grimly not liking his chances at getting a coherent statement from two such young children. Still the boy had remarkable poise for such a little guy. In fact Ray kind of admired the way he'd handled the situation. Though obviously frightened, he'd managed to stay calm and remarkably keep the much younger Lucy calm as well.
"So, think you can tell me what happened?" He asked Noah.
The boy nodded slightly, rising somewhat shakily to his feet. He looked as though he was about to pass out Ray noticed.
"Just take your time." The Detective said gently.
The boy blinked sweat from his eyes and looked at Lucy in what seemed like confusion for a moment. The little girl was still petting Diefenbaker, oblivious. The Mountie took a step forward.
"Ray." He said. His tone was one of concern.
Noah's eyes grew suddenly wide as he staggered to a debris-strewn corner of the alley, dropped to his knees and proceeded to vomit up the contents of his stomach. Ray frowned, he'd seen these delayed stress reactions before. Grown men and women who in times of extreme crisis remained calm but completely lost it as soon as the danger had passed. He couldn't really blame a six-year-old for tossing his cookies after having a gun shoved into his chest.
"Stress." He said simply, glancing at Fraser. The Mountie shook his head slightly his face a mask of concern.
"I don't think so Ray." He said.
The boy finally stopped heaving and began to slowly rise to his feet, leaning heavily against the brick wall for support. Fraser quickly crossed the alley and Noah, seeing the Mountie's approach out of the corner of his eye, raised his head sharply.
"Don't." He said, his arms held out defensively and his back to the wall. "Stay away from me. Don't touch me."
The Mountie stopped dead in his tracks, hands palm up.
"It's all right son." He said. "I'm not going to hurt you."
The boy stared at him with glassy unseeing eyes. His eyelids began to flutter and Fraser sprang forward just as Noah's knees began to buckle and he collapsed unconscious into the Mountie's arms. [i know this isn't all of it, anyone help me locate it?]
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