Two Trucks, a Cop, and a Baby

Warning: Kidfic! I know it's some people's pet peeve so I thought it fair to admit it. ;)
Disclaimer: Due South and characters therein belong to Alliance and the Pauls. Unfortunately, I'm currently a non-profit organization. That means no money is being made from this work. Poo.
Notes: Thanks to lynnmonster for the beta. She rocks. I have little to no knowledge of the legal aspects portrayed in this story, and I'm definately exaggerating the case here, but I think it works in the context of the Due South Universe, so run with it. :)

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Constable Renfield Turnbull returned from cleaning the Queen's bedroom to discover a two year old sitting in the Consulate lobby.  The small blond haired child was happily playing with a bright red truck.  A quick search of the Consulate and a glance outside the door turned up no parents or guardians of any kind.  Normally, Renfield would knock on the Inspector's door and ask for instructions, but the Inspector had been quite adamant that morning about not being disturbed.  He hoped that it had nothing to do with accidentally spilling his tea all over her.

Renfield bit his lip and picked up the boy.  The child didn't seem to mind in the least and happily clung to him.  Absently, the Constable hoped that the fingers digging into his serge were not sticky.  The pair headed down a hallway until reaching a door.  Renfield knocked quietly.

"Come in," a voice replied.

Renfield opened the door and stepped in.  He quickly stood at attention, or as much at attention as someone could stand while still holding a two year old.  Constable Fraser, his superior (his idol if you asked him privately), had yet to look up from the paperwork on the desk.

"Yes Turnbull?" Fraser asked.

"Sir, I have a bit of a quandary, Sir."

Fraser sighed and finally looked up.  He seemed somewhat surprised to see Ren holding a little boy, but quickly took it in stride.

"What's the problem, Constable?"

"I found this child in our lobby.  I can't seem to find anyone to whom he belongs."

"No parents?"  Fraser asked, concerned.

"No Sir, the Consulate is quite empty, Sir."

"I'll call Ray and see if there are any reports of missing children in the area.  Until we know anything, we should keep him here in case the parents return looking for him."

Renfield nodded.  He held the boy out to the man at the desk.  Fraser froze as he was reaching for the phone.  He looked at Turnbull and raised one eyebrow.  Ren sighed and nodded.  He pulled the boy back to him and went towards the kitchen.

Turnbull looked around the rather nice kitchen.  It was his favorite room in the Consulate.  He used it often for preparing meals for guests, or simply trying out new recipes.  Now he had to try and think what a two year old would want.  Juice seemed simple enough.  Ren sat the boy on the table and opened the fridge.  There was a container of apple juice in the back.  He pulled the jug out and set it on the counter.  Renfield stopped and frowned.  Consulates were nice places, he thought, but they had a distinct lack of sippy cups.  While he pondered a way to get the child some juice without making a mess, the boy watched him intently.

"Truck!" he said and pointed at Ren.

Turnbull looked at the boy in surprise.  He looked down at himself and then at the red truck in the boy's hand.  Oh, that was it.

"Ren," he replied and pointed at himself.

"Truck!" the boy said certainly.

Renfield frowned.  Surely the boy was old enough to know the difference between a man and a truck despite the similar coloring.  While he pondered this, Constable Fraser joined him in the kitchen.  Before the other man could speak the boy turned his head at the new person.

"Truck!" he said again and pointed at Fraser.

Fraser had been about to say something before he was interrupted and looked completely befuddled.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked the child.

"Truck!" the boy said yet again and nodded.

Apparently, the discussion was over as he went back to pushing his toy along the table top.  Fraser looked toward Renfield for some sort of explanation.  It was possibly the first time he had ever given Turnbull that look.

"We are red, therefore we are trucks.  Not quite Descartes, but what do you expect from someone who has trouble climbing stairs," Renfield explained.

"Ah," Fraser said quickly recovering, "Ray said that there were no reports of missing children, but he made sure that he would be notified if there were any.  So I'm afraid we'll just have to wait."

"What exactly is the procedure, Sir?"

"If the parents don't come forward in about six hours, he'll get turned over to Social Services."

Ren frowned.

"That's so sad."

"I want Diefenbaker to look him over.  Maybe he can find the parents' scent," Fraser said and picked up the boy.  He stood the child on the kitchen floor and knelt by him.  

"Don't be scared," he whispered quietly and motioned for Dief.

The wolf came over and gave the boy a good sniffing.  The child laughed happily and hugged the doggy managing to pull rather sharply on Dief's fur.  The wolf gave Fraser a look that spoke volumes.

"Now Dief, this is for a good cause. Remember the baby that we helped before?"

The little boy seemed to sense that the doggie didn't like him much and instead decided to hug Fraser.  The Mountie stiffened and Ren had to stop himself from frowning.  Constable Fraser was a man that needed more hugs as far as Renfield was concerned.  After half a second, Fraser loosened up and hugged the small boy back with a soft smile on his lips.

"What's your name?" Fraser asked after the boy let him go.

The child just looked at him as if he hadn't heard.  Fraser tried again in French to no avail.  He then carefully looked over the boy's clothes for some sort of notion as to his identity.

"Anything?" Renfield asked.

"No, I'm afraid not.  I'm going to take Diefenbaker outside to see if we can track down the parents."

Renfield nodded and turned back to the glass of apple juice he had poured during Constable Fraser's investigations.  He quirked his lips and scratched his head.

"Straws are in the third drawer on the left," Fraser offered as he and the wolf left.

Turnbull sighed.  Of course the Constable would have to point out the obvious.  The man must think him quite the dullard.  Ren retrieved a straw and sat the tumbler onto the table.  He hoisted the boy to stand on one of the chairs, and the child leaned over and drank happily.  He was amazed that the boy could be so relaxed during what he imagined must be a frightening experience.  The small amount of apple juice was gone quickly, so Ren picked up the boy and headed back for his post back in the lobby.

Half an hour later, Inspector Thatcher came breezing out of her office.  She stopped suddenly when she saw Renfield sitting with the boy in his lap.  He had allowed the child to mark on a 22-SY form with one of his pencils while he watched the phones.

"Constable, what is that?" Thatcher asked in confusion.

"It's a little boy, Ma'am.  Apparently, he was abandoned or lost in the Consulate while I was attending other duties.  Constable Fraser and I are currently trying to find his parents."

"Why wasn't I notified?" she asked huffily.

"You asked that you not be disturbed, Ma'am.  I took him to Constable Fraser as soon as I discovered him.  He has notified Detective Vecchio, and has taken Dief out to see if he can trace the parents."

"Oh, very well, carry on.  Keep me updated.  Tell Constable Fraser when he returns that I need the Belgium Diplomatic file ASAP."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Thatcher returned to her office and Ren gave a small sigh of relief.  The little boy copied him by sighing loudly.  Renfield smiled and gave the little fellow a squeeze.  He received a toothy grin in response.

The front door came open with some force and startled both Renfield and the baby.  Detective Vecchio, or Ray 2.0 as Ren cheekily thought of him, swaggered in talking over his shoulder.

"I'm telling ya Frase, parents today just don't give a rat's ass.  It's a real shame.  You wouldn't believe the number of cases like this that we have to worry about."

Constable Fraser followed behind and replied, "I don't doubt it, Ray.  I'm just saying that this could be some sort of mistake instead of a straight case of abandonment."

"Good afternoon, Detective Vecchio.  Welcome to Canada," Ren said to the brash American.

"Hey Turnbull.  So is this the tyke?  Cute kid, kinda favors you there a bit."

Renfield looked down at the boy with surprise.

"Do you think so?" he asked.

Ray grinned and with a wink continued, "Yeah, maybe this isn't abandonment.  Maybe he's one of yours, you wild man you."

Renfield blushed heavily and tried to think of something to say.

"Ray," Fraser admonished, "don't pick on Turnbull."

"What? It would explain why he was left at the Canadian Consulate of all places," the Detective said still smiling.

"Actually, he has a point.  This is an odd place to leave a child.  Maybe the parents are Canadian," Ren offered.

Fraser said, "Yes, I had thought of that, Turnbull."

"Oh, of course, Sir," Renfield replied but mentally kicked himself.  Then he thought of the Inspector.

"Constable Fraser, Inspector Thatcher is apprised of the situation.  She also asked me to remind you that she needs the Belgium Diplomatic file as soon as possible."

"Understood."

At that moment, the boy began to wriggle in Ren's lap and whine a bit.  Renfield thought he wanted down and sat him back on the floor, but the boy clung to him and whined louder.

"What's wrong?" Fraser asked.

"I don't know."

The other Constable approached the situation methodically.

"He didn't want down.  His truck is within reach.  Do you think he's thirsty again?" Fraser asked.

Ray broke in, "Thirsty again?  Did you give him something to drink?"

"Yes," Ren replied, "I gave him some apple juice about a half an hour ago."

"Well that's it then.  Apple juice goes straight through 'em.  He probably needs his diaper changed."

The two Mounties froze.  While Fraser had a little experience from the incident with the baby and the previous Ray Vecchio, Ren had no experience what so ever.  The boy began to cry a bit louder since nothing had been done about his problem yet.

"We don't have anything like that here," Ren said somewhat frantic.

Ray rolled his eyes at the two and picked up the crying boy.

"Fraser, go down to that drug store two blocks over and get some diapers.  He's what, about two?  Get whatever they have for toddlers.  Turnbull, find me a good size dish towel and some safety pins."

"Right!" the men said in unison and quickly followed Ray's orders.

The Detective shook his head and looked at the boy.

"Mounties…" he said smirking.

Turnbull returned with the items quickly only to find the lobby empty.  After a moment he heard something in the bathroom.  Ray had already taken off the boy's small blue jeans and was in the process of removing the soiled diaper when Ren found them.

"Hey Turnbull, what did you find?" the Detective asked glancing at the mirror in front of him.

Renfield held up the cloth that he thought would work.

"That'll do.  Fold it corner to corner and lay it over here."

"You're quite good at this Detective," Ren said.

"Yeah, well I've babysat my brother's kids often enough.  That was before he moved, though.  I hardly see them anymore.  I guess that's where I got the whole wanting kids thing from."

"Oh?" Ren asked.  He thought he detected a note of sadness in Ray's voice with that last sentence.

Ray didn't reply as he maneuvered the wiggling boy into the makeshift diaper and pinned it.

"There, that'll do until Frase gets back.  We won't bother putting his pants back on until then."

The boy seemed happy and reached up to grasp Ray's rather excited hair.

"Hey now, kid.  Don't mess with the do."

Constable Fraser got back quickly enough and Ray returned to the bathroom.  After a few moments, he emerged with the boy who was now fully dressed and apparently enamored with the Detective.

"You'd better take him Turnbull.  He keeps trying to reach for my gun."

Renfield nodded and took the child but he quickly started squirming.  The Constable set him down on the floor and watched him run around wildly.  This was, of course, when the Inspector chose to come back out of her office.

"Constable, I thought I told you to remind Constable Fraser about the Belgium file."

"He did, Sir," Fraser said and stood even straighter than usual.

"Well where is it?"

"I'm afraid I got rather sidetracked.  We had a small emergency with the boy."

"Nothing's wrong with him?" the Inspector asked right before the child attached himself to her leg.

Renfield gasped, horrified.  He quickly bent down to get the boy, but the child refused to let go of the Inspector's leg.

"Constable Turnbull," she said in her coldest voice, "get this boy off of me."

"I'm trying, Ma'am, but he seems rather attached to you."

"That's the problem, Constable."

Detective Vecchio was impolitely sniggering in the background.  Renfield tried again to pull the boy free, but he was having none of it.  Out of desperation, Ren looked around for something to distract the child with.  He saw Diefenbaker lying by his desk.

"Look!  Look at the doggie!" Ren said quickly and pointed.

Dief looked scandalized and he could see Constable Fraser wince out of the corner of his eye.  His ploy worked, though, because the boy quickly let go of the Inspector and dashed over to latch himself onto the wolf.

Thatcher took a deep breath to calm herself before she spoke.

"Gentlemen, this is not a daycare.  What progress have you made in finding the child's parents?"

Fraser spoke up.

"There weren't any clues on the child's person.  I had Dief do a search of the area, but he lost track of the scent near the park down the street.  Detective Vecchio has notified the authorities, but there have been no missing child reports.  I'm afraid we're just going to have to wait until it's time to turn the boy over to Child Services.  That is unless the parents present themselves, of course."

The Inspector frowned but nodded.

"I'm going to lunch.  Turnbull you continue to watch him.  Constable Fraser, that file should be on my desk when I return."

"Yes, Sir."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Thatcher went to get her purse and then swept out of the Consulate.  The boy looked up at Ren from his place on the floor and sighed dramatically.  Turnbull found himself laughing louder than he had in years.  When he finally pulled himself together, Detective Vecchio and Constable Fraser were looking at him rather oddly.

"Sorry," he said straightening himself, "private joke."

The boy had made his way over to Renfield while the Mountie was laughing.  He gingerly tugged on the man's jodhpurs.

"Ren, Toby hungry," the boy said quietly.

The three men goggled at the child.  Renfield knelt down and looked the boy in the eye.

"Toby?  Is that your name?"

"Toby hungry, Ren."

"Well," Ray said with his usual smirk, "I think we've established that he's Toby and that he's hungry."

"I think that I can take care of that," Renfield said and picked up Toby.

The other two followed them into the kitchen.  Ren sat the boy in a chair only to discover that the table top was about even with his eyes.  Ray stepped out of the kitchen and reappeared with the Chicago phone book to use as a temporary booster seat.  Fraser nodded his approval.

"What do children his age eat?" Ren asked as he peered into the refrigerator.

Ray sat in the chair next to Toby and said, "Regular food, you just have to make sure that it's cut up into small enough pieces.  Finger food would be best."

While Renfield pondered this, Fraser spoke, "Well at least we're no longer trucks."

Toby looked up at Fraser and bellowed, "Truck!"

"Well at least I'm no longer a truck," Ren said with a chuckle.

"Why does he call you Ren?" Ray asked.

"Well it is my name, Detective."

"No kidding!  Really?  Turnbull has a first name?  That's wild!"

Ren shook his head and stepped over to Ray. He held his hand out.

"Renfield Turnbull, pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Ray Kowalski, nice to meet ya, but don't spread it around, if you know what I mean."

Ren nodded as he and Ray shook hands.  Fraser seemed amused by the whole display.  Toby grunted unhappily though.  Ren patted his head and went back to making him some lunch.

The three men and Toby ate quietly, with Ray helping the boy when needed.  Fraser also seemed surprised at the Detective's ease with children.  Ray told him his best horror stories of babysitting his nephew and niece.  Constable Fraser excused himself early to finish up the Belgium file.

"Detective," Ren asked, "can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure, just call me Ray, though."

"Okay, Ray, it's about Constable Fraser.  This morning Toby hugged him and it seemed to make him nervous."

Renfield watched the other man slowly close up as soon as he had brought up his superior.

"Yeah, so?"

"You're his friend, his closest friend.  I think you should hug him more.  It's just a suggestion, mind you."

"What?" Ray asked in surprise.

"Well, the Constable, while being an excellent Mountie, he seems.  He has trouble with people, I think.  I don't think he's been, you know, hugged a lot.  Since you seem closer to him than anyone else that I know of, it would seem the task would fall to you."

Ray was speechless.  Renfield had never seen the outspoken Detective speechless before.  After a moment, the man recovered.

"You want me to hug Fraser?"

"Yes, I think it would be good for him, but like I said, it's only a suggestion."

"Turnbull, you're unhinged."

Renfield frowned, but nodded.

At that moment, the front door opened.  Ren got up and went to see who it was.  A rather pleasant looking African American lady stood in the lobby holding a briefcase.  She gave a warm smile to Turnbull as he approached.

"Hello, Ma'am, welcome to Canada.  How can I assist you?"

"I'm Cynthia Rowland from Social Services.  We had a report of an abandoned child."

"Oh yes, Ms. Rowland, I'm Constable Renfield Turnbull.  I'm the one who found the boy.  He's in the kitchen, if you'd follow me."

They headed back into the kitchen where Ray and Toby were playing with his truck on the floor.  The Detective looked up and gave a wide grin.

"Cynthia, hey."

"Hello, Ray," the young woman replied.

"You know, you never did call me back about that date I asked you on."

"I know, that was sort of the idea," she replied smugly.

Turnbull raised his eyebrows at the conversation, and tried not to laugh at the sour expression on Ray's face.  Ms. Rowland got on her knees in front of the boy.  She looked him over carefully without touching him.  Toby for the most part ignored her.

"Do you know his name?" Cynthia asked.

Ren answered, "He says his name is Toby, but we obviously couldn't get a surname from him."

Ms. Rowland nodded and turned back to Ray.

"Have you guys got anything on him so far?" she asked.

"Nah.  There haven't been any reports or anything, and I think he's a little too young for the child protection fingerprinting program.  We can try it later though, if you think it would do any good."

"No, I think you're right.  It's a long shot at best.  He's what, about two?  We should get pictures of him to give to the media.  Someone might know him."

Ren interrupted, "What's going to happen to him now?"

"Well, he'll go into temporary foster care while we try to find out if he has any family.  If we can't find anyone, he'll go into foster care permanently and be available for adoption."

"That's awful.  The poor boy," Renfield said with a sigh.

"It's not so bad.  Hopefully, a nice family will want to adopt him and take better care of him than his previous one did.  Would you really want him to go back to someone who'd just leave him on the street?"

"But they didn't leave him on the street.  They left him in our lobby.  I know it's silly, but I feel sort of responsible for him because his parents or whomever left him here."

Cynthia paused and asked, "Wait.  Did you say he was left in your lobby?"

"Yes, I came downstairs this morning and found him.  If I had been at my regular post, I might have caught the person."

"I thought you found him outside….  I'm going to have to use your phone."

"There's one on my desk in the lobby near the door."

Ms. Rowland stepped out of the kitchen quickly.  Ren turned to look at Ray.

"What do you think is wrong?" he asked.

Ray merely shrugged.  Toby got up and held his arms up to Renfield.  The Constable picked him up and the child laid his head on Ren's shoulder.

Ray smiled and said, "I think it's nap time.  Cynthia better hurry or he'll get cranky."

Fraser passed by the doorway with a file in hand and after a moment he came back.

"There's someone using your phone in the lobby, Turnbull."

Ren brought finger to his lips to quiet the other Constable and motioned to Toby who had conked out on his shoulder.  Fraser nodded.

"That's Ms. Rowland from Social Services.  She's here for Toby, but she needed to use the phone," Ren whispered.

The three men sat back down at the table and waited for Cynthia to return.  It took some time, and when she did come back, she looked upset.

"We have a problem," Cynthia said quietly after noticing Toby. "I can't take him."

Ray said, "What do you mean you can take him?  You're Child Services, that's your job."

"Under normal circumstances, yes, but these aren't normal circumstances."

"How so?" Fraser asked the question they were all thinking.

"We're in Chicago and that's my jurisdiction, but he was found here inside the Consulate.  As you know, for all intents and purposes this is Canadian soil.  If I took Toby out of here, I'd be breaking about 5 international laws."

Ray rolled his eyes while the two Mounties remained silent.

"Oh come on.  I tell you what.  I'll pick up Toby right now and we'll walk outside, off the Consulate property, and I'll hand him over to you there.  How's that?"

"No, Ray, I'm sorry.  For all we know, Toby is a Canadian citizen.  It would still be illegal for Chicago to take possession of him."

"You don't know that!  We don't know who he is, much less his nationality!"

"That's true, but until we do, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do."

Finally, Ren spoke, "What are we supposed to do?  He can't stay here forever."

"I suggest you get in touch with whatever Canadian authority normally handles these things.  Work it from your end.  I'm really sorry, but I can't take responsibility for something that could put the city in legal jeopardy."

Cynthia gave them an apologetic look and stroked Toby's sleeping head before leaving.  The three men quietly sat trying to come up with some solution.  After a few moments, the sound of a throat clearing shook them from their thoughts.  Inspector Thatcher stood in the doorway.

"Well, what news?" she asked.

Renfield and Ray both looked quickly to Fraser.  The Constable knew when he was being singled out, and quickly rose to his feet.

"There has been a development, Sir.  We should discuss it in your office.  Constable Turnbull needs to put Toby down for a nap."

"Very well, you can use the first floor guest room, Turnbull."

"Yes, Ma'am," Ren said quickly.

He and Ray went in to the bedroom, and Ren gently laid Toby on the bed.

"I'm glad Frase took her into the office.  You know she's going to go ballistic and only end up waking the kid."

"Yes, that was rather quick thinking," Renfield agreed.

Ray snickered behind him and Turnbull turned to look at him.

"Ya got some drool on the serge there, buddy."

Ren looked at his shoulder in horror and then sighed melodramatically.  He headed for the bathroom quickly to prevent the wet patch from staining.  On his way back he could hear the Inspector's outrage, even if he couldn't make out the exact words.  Renfield suddenly felt bad for Constable Fraser.  After all, he should be the one receiving the brunt of Thatcher's anger, not Fraser.  He was the one who found Toby.  The baby was his responsibility.  Turnbull stopped in his tracks.  That was the second time he had claimed the boy.  Ren frowned.  He wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

Toby slept for about an hour, and neither Thatcher nor Fraser had emerged from her office in that time.  Renfield was starting to get worried, and Ray's attempts to distract him were slowly beginning to fail.  When Toby woke up, Ren volunteered to change him.  Ray looked on in case the Mountie needed any guidance.  It took the boy a while to fully wake up.  He seemed a bit groggy after his nap.  He kept rubbing his eyes and yawning in a way that made the two men melt like butter.  Things quickly changed when Toby was finally alert.

"Mommy?" Toby asked looking around.

Ren and Ray exchanged worried glances.  This was the blow up they'd been waiting on.  True to form after a few minutes Toby was in a good snit.  He was bawling and calling for his mother rather fiercely.  

"Don't cry, Toby, don't cry," Ren said softly over and over.

Ren held him close and tried to calm him, but there was no consoling him.  The scene tugged at the Constable's heart strings, and he was alarmed to feel tears running down his own cheeks.  Surprisingly, this is what seemed to calm Toby.  The boy peered at his new protector and touched the tears on the man's cheeks with his small hands.

"No cry, Ren," Toby said with a sniffle of his own.

Suddenly, Ray said an emotional, "Aw God!"

The next thing he knew, Turnbull and Toby were wrapped in a Kowalski sized bear hug.  This was when the door to the Inspector's office opened and Constable Fraser stepped out.  He paused for a moment to take in the scene.  There was a slight quirk of his lips at the corner.  It was as close to a smirk as Fraser usually came.

"Is everything all right?  I thought I heard Toby crying."

Ray, not bothering to let Ren go, said, "Do you mind?  We're having a moment here."

This did cause Fraser to smile.

"I'm terribly sorry.  By all means, please continue."

"No, now you've ruined it," Ray said letting go and giving Fraser a matching smile.

Ren looked at Toby and said, "If I live to be a hundred, I'll never understand those two."

He quickly wiped his face and carried Toby over to his desk.  Ray and Fraser followed.  The other Constable shot a worried glance at his subordinate.

"Are you sure, you're all right, Turnbull?"

"Yes, Sir.  Toby wanted his mother.  It was quite upsetting.  I feel so sorry for him, all alone in a strange place."

"But he's not alone Constable.  He has you, and Ray and I."

"Yeah we're a regular happy family," Ray said snarkily but a look from Fraser quieted him.

Renfield quickly changed the subject.

"What has taken so long with the Inspector?  I haven't gotten you in to trouble, have I Constable?  If so, I'd be perfectly happy to take all the blame.  After all, Toby is my responsibility, sort of and…."

Fraser quickly cut him off.

"Everything's fine, Turnbull. I appreciate the sentiment, but nothing is wrong.  Inspector Thatcher and I have been on the phone to Ottawa.  We're 'working it from our end' as Ms. Rowland suggested.  I'm afraid with about as similar results.  The officials we spoke to seem to have the same position as Chicago Social Services.  They can't be sure that Toby's not an American citizen in the wrong place at the wrong time.  They're sending down some people, though, to look into the matter.  They should be here tomorrow afternoon.  This whole situation is getting rather preposterous."

"I don't believe this.  These organizations are supposed to look after kids' welfare.  You think they'd try a little harder," Ray groaned.

"I don't disagree with you there, Ray.  In any case, we have to keep Toby on the Consulate grounds according to the officials.  So, I guess he'll be staying the night here with me."

"I'll stay and help, Sir.  I'm going to see this through to the end!"

"Thank you, Turnbull.  It is very much appreciated."

"I guess I'm in for the sleep over too.  Actually, I'd better call Welsh and check in.  He's probably having kittens since I've been gone all day."

Ray pulled out his cell phone and disappeared down the hallway to Fraser's office.  Fraser excused himself and went back in to help the Inspector.  Ren looked down at Toby who had been quiet the whole time.  Perhaps he had sensed that the grown ups were talking seriously on his behalf.

"Ren sad?" Toby asked.

"No, Ren happy.  Toby sad?"

The boy shook his head then grabbed Ren around the neck.

"Love you," he said and hugged the Mountie fiercely.

Renfield whispered back, "I love you too."

After Ray's phone call to the Lieutenant, he headed home to grab a few things before spending the night at the Consulate.  The Detective kindly offered to get things for Ren as well.  He handed over the keys to his apartment and a list of things for Ray to pick up.  The Inspector got ready to leave at closing time.  She had stayed on the phone with the home office most of the afternoon, but still didn't get any further than she had with the Canadian child authorities.  Thatcher left with the order that she be called at home if anything important occurred.  Fraser promised and went to hail her a cab.

Ren took Toby into the small sitting room off of the foyer where the Consulate's small television was kept.  He pulled a few throw pillows off of the couches onto the floor and lay down next to the boy.  Toby had lost interest in his truck quickly and had become fascinated by Renfield's lanyard.  Ren picked up his Stetson which lay on the couch behind him and sat it on the Toby's head.  The hat swallowed the child and the both of them giggled.  Constable Fraser stepped back into the sitting room having changed out of his uniform.

"I think it'll be a few years yet before he'll be able to wear that well," Fraser said sitting cross legged on the opposite side of the child.

"I wonder if they make Toddler sized serge." Ren pondered.

"That's all the world needs, a tiny Turnbull running amuck," Ray said from the doorway causing the other two men to turn.

Ren raised an eyebrow at the Detective who just grinned in response.  Ray tossed a black gym back just inside the doorway and held up another for Ren. He quickly hopped to his feet to go change clothes.  When he returned, Ray had taken his spot on the floor and Toby had crawled into Fraser's lap.  He watched as Toby tilted his head back and reached up to the Constable's face with his small hand.  Fraser made a soft growling noise and sucked the boy's fingers into his mouth pretending to chew on them.  Toby giggled.  Ren sat beside the man.

"Have you ever thought of having children, Sir?" Ren asked curious.

Fraser removed the stubby fingers from his mouth and said, "I've never really gave it much thought, no.  That's what my father wants.  Wanted for me.  I don't know.  Sometimes I think that I wouldn't make a very good father."

"I don't believe that," Ray said.  "You'll be a great dad, Frase."

"Thank you, kindly, Ray.  It's nice that you have so much faith in me.  I just hope that it's not misplaced."

"Nah.  Now all we have to do is find you a woman that doesn't make you quake in your Mountie boots."

Ray laughed and got a reproving look in response.  Ren smiled.  It was nice to watch the pair banter back and forth.  He often wished that he had a friend like that.

"Fwase no sad!" Toby said loudly.

Fraser smiled with a delighted gleam in his eye while looking down at the boy.

"I'm not sad, Toby.  Ray's just mean."

"Ray mean!" Toby agreed.

Ren laughed.  Ray, on the other hand, had his mouth hanging open in surprise.  Ren wasn't sure if he was surprised at Toby's outburst or Fraser's manipulative little grin.

"I am not!  Don't listen to him, Toby."

"I think you should leave the boy out of your little marital squabbles," Ren said and then slapped his hand over his mouth.

Both men looked at him in shock, but no more shock than he felt himself.  After a second Ray rolled onto his back and hooted with laughter.  Even Constable Fraser started to chuckle.  Toby was looking around at the three men curiously.  He obviously didn't understand the strange grown-ups.

Once Ray had caught his breath, he said, "You know I always worry that we sound like an old married couple.  I guess now I know."

"I think most partners do, Ray," Ren said hoping that his face wasn't too red.

"Hmm" was Fraser's only comment and it caused Ray to start back up laughing for some reason.

The three had an amicable dinner.  Ray ordered Chinese.  With deference to Toby, Constable Fraser ordered stir fried vegetables and chicken with no sauce.  Toby seemed to like it well enough because he ate most of the chicken and some of the vegetables.  The ones he didn't like got mashed into the table top with glee.   Ren and Fraser looked at each other and silently decided whom would clean up Toby and whom would clean up the table.

"That's creepy.  It's like a Canadian mind meld or something," Ray said watching them.

Fraser picked up the boy and disappeared towards the bathroom while Ren pushed up his sleeves.  He wet a dishrag and began wiping down the table.  Ray watched him silently while he ate some rice out of the white paper box in his hand.  Ren had gotten into his cleaning groove where his mind could wander and think when the Detective interrupted his thoughts.

"So I've been thinking about what you said."

"Hmm?"

Ray rolled his eyes and continued, "What you said about Fraser."

"Oh, the hugging?" Ren asked glancing back at the hall.

"Don't worry about Mr. Bat Ears.  What I wanted to ask was, why do you care?"

"He's my superior."

"Welsh is my boss, and I don't worry about his happiness."

"Well, he's the only friend I have here," Ren answered honestly.  Ray gave him a look of surprise and he couldn't help but smile.  "I know that Constable Fraser doesn't think very highly of me.  It's understandable, most people don't, but he is usually kind to me.  That's more than I regularly get.  So, I like to think of him as my friend."

Ren went back to cleaning the table while humming Garth Brooks' new song under his breath.  Ray remained quiet until Constable Fraser returned.  Toby was wriggling in his arms.  Fraser set him onto the floor.  The boy quickly walked around the room getting the lay of the land.  Diefenbaker who had been lying under the table eyed the child warily.

"Do you think we should put him to bed?" Fraser asked.

"Frase, he's going to be wired until about ten o'clock, trust me."

Constable Fraser frowned.  He stared at Toby who was trying to open one of the cabinets.  Ren intercepted him as he headed back to rinse out the dishrag.

"Oh no you don't, Mister," Ren said picking Toby up.  Toby wiggled and grunted unhappily.  "I'll put you down in the sitting room where you can play."

He could hear Ray laughing at Fraser as they left the kitchen.

"I know, I know, it's past your Mountie bedtime, Frase.  Don't worry.  Ren and I will watch him."

"Ray."

It was amazing how much disapproval and warning could be put into one word like that.  Of course, all of it seemed to bounce right off the Detective.  Ren could hear Ray chuckling at his friend.

The rest of the evening was as Ray had predicted.  Toby ran wild having a good time until late.  Fraser went though his normal evening routine of polishing his boots and listening to the radio only he did it in the sitting room with the rest of them.  Ray kept changing the radio station from opera to classic rock whenever Constable Fraser wasn't looking.  Fraser would only sigh and switch it back.  Ren was even cheeky enough to switch it to his favorite country station when Fraser and Ray were distracted by the baby.  He was quite proud to get an approving look from the Detective even if it was followed by several insults to country music.

When Toby started winding down, Ren carried him back into the first floor guestroom again.  He carefully piled the large pillows on one side of the boy and laid down on the other side to prevent him from rolling off the bed.  Toby curled against his side and snuggled up in the crook of his arm.  Ren sighed happily and dropped off to sleep.

Ren woke to the sound of Dief's toenails clicking outside in the hall.  He raised his head up and saw the wolf's nose peeking under the gap at the bottom of the door.  Toby was still asleep.  He carefully slipped off of the bed and stepped out into the hallway leaving the door cracked an inch.

"Good morning, Diefenbaker.  Is Constable Fraser up?" he asked softly.

Dief gave a soft whoosh of air from his nose and headed for the kitchen.  Ren took that as a yes and followed the canine.  Fraser was indeed awake.  The Constable must have been up for some time because he was washed and clean shaven.  He stood in his jodhpurs, henley, and suspenders making breakfast.

"Good morning, sir.  Is Ray awake?"

"Good morning, Turnbull.  No, I'm afraid that Ray isn't much of a morning person.  He won't be up for a while yet so why don't you take the bathroom."

"Thank you, sir.  Toby is still sleeping."

"I'll look in on him."

Ren nodded and went to get ready for work.  It was nice having someone to talk to in the morning.  Usually, he spent his mornings and his evenings alone.  Ren looked at his reflection.  He supposed that he'd have to get used to being alone again as soon as the officials decided what to do with Toby.  Renfield bowed his head and stepped into the shower.

Watching Ray Kowalski wake up in the morning had to be one of the most amusing sights that Ren had ever witnessed.  Ray had crashed on the couch in the sitting room the night before.  He was nothing but a blanket covered lump and a bright patch of disheveled hair.  Ren had followed Fraser into the sitting room after getting dressed.  The other Constable held a cup of coffee that he had mysteriously dumped a small handful of chocolate candies into.  Ren watched his superior thump the couch with his boot and then waft the coffee in Ray's direction.  The disheveled head moved around for a moment before a pale arm appeared out from under the blanket.  Fraser placed the coffee mug into the offered hand and stood back.  Ray rolled onto his side and blinked at them blearily before taking a few sips of the hot liquid.

"It'll be a few moments before he'll be able to process speech," Fraser said, "We'd better leave him too it."

Ren chuckled and followed Fraser back into the kitchen.  About ten minutes later, Ray stumbled in the kitchen looking for more coffee.  He was still wearing his boxer shorts and a white tank top, but it wasn't until he started scratching his posterior that Ren cracked up.

"Shut up," were Ray's first words of the day.  Followed closely by, "Damnit, where's the coffee, Fraser?"

Constable Fraser took Ray by the shoulders and turned him physically towards the coffee maker and gave a slight nudge once he was facing the right direction. There was a put upon look on his face, but Ren could see the amusement in his eyes.

"'Not much of a morning person' was an understatement, sir," Ren finally said.

"Yes, well…"

Ray's only response to their conversation was to pour himself another cup and grumble under his breath.  To both Constables' surprise, Inspector Thatcher appeared in the kitchen.  While their superior was always punctual, she rarely came into the office early.  She took in the scene before opening her mouth to speak.  The words died on her lips as her eyes finally landed on the Detective in his underwear.  She stood there gaping for a moment as Kowalski slowly turned to see her.  He raised one eyebrow but was otherwise unfazed.  Thatcher snapped her mouth closed.

"How is the boy?" she asked Fraser back in her usual professional form.

"Fine, sir."

"Very good.  The officials should be arriving at eleven.  You'll need to pick them up at the airport and bring them here immediately.  Perhaps Detective Vecchio could assist you if he ever decides to get dressed.  Turnbull, you'll be in charge of the baby."

"Yes, ma'am," Ren replied.

"Carry on," she said with another quick look at Ray before heading towards her office.

The three men were silent for a moment before Ray said, "She wants me."

Ren laughed while Fraser gave his partner a funny look.

"You're unhinged," Fraser said warmly.

Ray replied, in a fairly accurate impression of Fraser, "Understood."

Ray disappeared into the sitting room and thankfully reappeared clothed.  He pulled on his shoulder harness and checked his sidearm before sitting down to eat the oatmeal that Fraser had prepared.  Ren listened to the pair talk about work.  He had little to add to the conversation, so he kept quiet.

Ren checked on Toby after Fraser and Ray had left for the airport.  The boy was awake but not completely.  Renfield smiled at the child and remembered how hard it was for Ray to get up.  It was no wonder that Toby liked Ray. They were a lot alike, not that he'd ever say so to the Detective.  Ren was in the middle of changing the sleepy boy's diaper when the Inspector came in.

"Turnbull."

"Ma'am, is there something you need?"

"I got these for the boy to wear today," she said holding up a small set of overalls and bright red T-shirt.

"Ma'am?" Ren asked with surprise.

"Well, we can hardly have him meeting officials in the dirty clothes from yesterday," Thatcher replied looking a slight bit uncomfortable.  "I got him a few more things for whoever is chosen to take him."

"That was very thoughtful, Ma'am.  I'll put these on directly."

"Very good," the Inspector said gently rubbing her hand over Toby's hair before stepping out of the room.

Toby was a little more awake as Ren dressed him.  The Inspector's choices were very nice, and Toby seemed to like the red shirt.

"I think she likes you," Ren whispered.  "Plus, now we match!"

"Red!"

"Yes, exactly, red!"

Renfield carried the boy back out to the lobby and took his station.  Toby seemed happy enough to sit in his lap.  Again he was fascinated by Ren's lanyard.  There weren't many phone calls so the Constable was pleased to spend most of the time playing with the boy.  Ren kissed his head and ran his fingers through the soft blonde hair.  He'd hug Toby and talk to him, and he even caught himself singing a little to the child.  If he had stopped to think about it, he would have realized that he was getting in his quality time before Toby's fate was decided and he'd have to give up the boy.  

The time was short though as Ray and Constable Fraser returned with a dour looking woman in a dark business suit and a tall thin man who appeared to have hay fever.

"Is this the boy?" the woman asked.

Toby shrank back from her as she bent to peer at him over Ren's desk.  He said a silent prayer that the boy wouldn't have to go with her.  Fraser escorted them into the Inspector's office without a backward glance at Renfield or Toby.  Ray hovered next to the desk and made a face as soon as the officials' backs were turned.

"What a couple of weirdoes," the Detective said.

Toby reached up his arms to the blonde, so Ren handed him over.  Ray's whole face softened when he smiled fully.  Ren thought it was a shame that he didn't smile like that more often, but then again he did have the whole 'tough Chicago cop' ideal to live up to.  Ray kissed the child's forehead when Toby hugged his neck.

"Don't worry kiddo, we won't let the bitchy lady get you," he whispered.

Ren only hoped that Ray was right.  They both turned as the front door opened to reveal Cynthia Rowland, an older man with kind brown eyes, and a smartly dressed lady with soft gray curls cut close to her head

"Hi Ray, Constable Turnbull, this is my boss Peter Charles and Judge Amy Banning," she said introducing the pair.

"Ah, you'd be the one who found the boy?" Mr. Charles asked as they shook hands.

"Yes, Sir.  I've been taking good care of him," Ren responded.

The man seemed to look at him closely before answering, "Yes, I'm sure you have.  We brought along Judge Banning because she worked international law before taking the bench here in Chicago."

"It's an honor to meet you, Ma'am," Ren said shaking her hand as well.

"Oh I hardly believe that," the woman said and looked over at Ray and the boy.  "You're a Detective aren't you?  I believe I've seen you in my courtroom."

"Yes, your honor.  You sat on the Gordon murder trial."

"That's right!  I never forget a face.  Ray… something eastern European wasn't it?"

Ray cleared his throat.

"Italian actually.  Vecchio.  My name is Ray Vecchio."

The Judge looked confused for a moment, and Ren suddenly realized that she knew Ray's real name.  After a tense moment, the woman shook her head.

"I'm just terrible with names.  Faces I always remember, but names never seem to sink in."

"Yeah," Ray responded smoothly with a smile.  "Listen, the Canadians are already in the Inspector's office.  Maybe we should go on in and get this settled.  Here, Ren, take Toby."

Ren easily accepted the child and watched Ray lead them into the Inspector's office.  They were suddenly alone again.  Ren sat down and hugged Toby tightly.

"Ren!  No!" Toby said squirming in his arms.

Ren let go when he realized he had been holding the boy too tight.

"I'm sorry, Toby.  Do you want your truck?"

"Yes."

Ren carried him back into the first floor bedroom to retrieve his toy.  He saw the other clothes that the Inspector had purchased laying in a bag at the foot of the bed.  Renfield took a deep breath and tried not to cry.  Fortunately, Toby didn't seem to notice his mood.  Toby wanted down so Ren let him walk back to the lobby carrying his toy.  The large Constable took tiny steps as he watched the child waddle down the hall.  His eyes on Toby, he didn't notice the gentleman by his desk until the boy stopped to look up at the stranger.

"Bon jour little one!" said the slight man with the dark moustache.

"Hello, welcome to Canada, sir.  How can I help you?"

"Yes, I am supposed to meet with an Inspector Thatcher," the man said with an accent.

Something tickled in the back of Ren's mind.

"The Belgian Diplomatic file…. Oh dear, you're the Belgian representative!" he said quickly.

"Oui.  I am Henri Rouche, and you are?" the man asked with a smile and held out his hand.

"Flabbergasted… I mean, Constable Renfield Turnbull and this is Toby."

The two shook hands and Rouche seemed amused by Ren's dumbfoundedness.

"Hello, Toby," Henri said and bent down to hold his hand out to the boy.  Toby held his truck out to the man.  When he didn't take it, Toby wandered over to sit on the floor next to Diefenbaker.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we forgot all about you.  Toby, you see, was abandoned in our lobby and there is some dispute as to whom will take him."

"Really? That is a shame."

"Yes it is," Ren said wistfully.  Henri watched him closely.

"Who has been caring for him?"

"I have along with Constable Fraser, my superior, and Detective Vecchio of the Chicago Police Department."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since yesterday."

"Well, with such a crisis, no wonder I was forgotten!  I would have thought it was longer, the way you look at him."

Ren flushed, "Yes, I have gotten quite attached, I'm afraid."

"What is the dispute?" Henri asked as the voices in the Inspector's office started to get louder.

Ren glanced at the closed door before replying, "Since he was left here in the Consulate the Chicago Child Services were afraid to take him.  Unfortunately, the Canadian services were the same.  It's all because we don't know if he's American or Canadian."

"Oh dear, I see your problem.  Well, perhaps I can help.  This is the Inspector's office, oui?"  Henri said sweeping past Turnbull and throwing open the office door.

Ren picked up Toby and quickly followed the small man with a worried look.  His first glance around the room he purposely avoided the Inspector's glare.  Ray's face was red and he was practically vibrating with anger.  Constable Fraser stood at attention next to the Inspector's desk.  The Americans were seated on the right and the Canadians on the left.  None of them looked particularly happy.

"What is the meaning of this?" Thatcher asked.

"You must be Inspector Thatcher.  I am Henri Rouche.  The Constable has told me about the situation and as a fellow member of the United Nations, and a disinterested party, I would be happy to mediate this dispute."

Thatcher paled when she realized who she had barked at, but the others were noticeably upset.

"Who are you?  What are you talking about?" the dour Canadian official asked.

"He's the Belgian representative to the United Nations underneath the Belgian Ambassador," Thatcher explained.

Judge Banning sighed, "That's all we need, another country in the mix.  We have too many cooks in the kitchen as it is."

"Yes, but from what I can tell," Henri said, "you aren't getting anything cooked."

Banning raised an eyebrow and smiled.  Rouche smiled back.

"So what do you mean mediate? The idiots are arguing not to take the kid!" Ray snarled.

Everyone frowned at the Detective.  Ren buried his face in Toby's hair.  When he looked up, Henri Rouche was looking right at him.

"Well, I can solve that easily, too," the Belgian said.

"How?" the Canadian lady snorted.

"I will make Toby a Belgian Citizen.  It shouldn't take more than a day or so with my contacts to get the paperwork finalized."

The whole room was silenced.  They stared at the small man in shock.

"Since neither country seems to want to take charge, I'm afraid I'll have to.  A child's welfare is at stake.  I'm sure Toby will make a fine Belgian."

Fraser gave a tiny smile and said, "I think that's a fine idea.  It does solve our problem, but who will take care of him?  Will you?"

"Well I can make him a ward of the state.  In doing so, I'd have to name a guardian."

Fraser's smile widened.

"Who would that be?" the Constable asked.

Somehow Fraser and Rouche seemed to be sharing some private joke.  It was obvious that the Constable had figured out the Belgian's plan.

"It would have to be someone responsible and caring who could share a familial bond with the boy."

"A Belgian?" Fraser asked.

"It would not have to be…" Henri said.

Renfield looked down at Toby.  The child silently grinned back up at him.

"I'll do it," he heard himself say quietly.

Ren wasn't sure who was more surprised, the members of the room or himself.  Constable Fraser and Rouche shared a grin.  Thatcher snorted.

"You're a single man with a tiny apartment and a laughable income.  How do you expect to raise a child?"

"He can apply for assistance in Canada.  He'd be eligible," Fraser answered.

"If that is not enough, he can also apply in Belgium.  I would be happy to sponsor him."

Fraser turned to the Canadian officials.

"Do you have any objections?"

The woman jerked to her feet and was quickly followed by her companion.

"I can see this was a wasted trip," she said and marched out.

Fraser frowned and turned to the Chicagoans.

"And you?"

Cynthia smiled and looked at Mr. Charles.  They shared a look and raised eyebrows.

"I have no objections," Mr. Charles said and they rose to leave.

Cynthia slipped her card into Ren's hand as she passed.

"Let me know if you need any help with anything," she whispered and kissed the top of Toby's head.

Judge Banning stopped by Rouche on her way out.

"Well played, sir.  If you need any American assistance, call my office."

Rouche nodded and said, "I'll call the Belgian Consulate and get things started."

When it was just the Inspector, Fraser, Ray, and himself, Ren gasped.

"Good Lord! What have I done?"

"You love him, Turnbull.  You have since you laid eyes on him.  Why shouldn't you take care of him?" Ray asked gripping his shoulder.

"Do you really think I could?"

Thatcher looked about to say something, but Ray shot her a look and she was quiet.

"It's not going to be easy, Turnbull, but you have a very good heart.  I know that you'll do everything in your power to keep him safe and happy.  No child could ask for more.  Certainly no child that was given up without a thought," Fraser said.

"Plus, you already have a couple of babysitters," Ray added, throwing his arm around Fraser's shoulders.

"Thank you for volunteering me, Ray."

"Oh like you'd say no."

Fraser frowned but didn't argue.

"I will have to look for a bigger apartment.  Plus there are clothes to consider, and toys… Oh dear," Ren said overwhelmed.

Fraser smiled and said, "We'll help you, Turnbull.  Slow down and take it one step at a time."

Toby grunted, "Toby thirsty!"

Ren looked down at his new… son… and smiled.

"All right, Toby."


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