Ties, by Sue Castle. A Due South story, rated PG for language. No copyright infringement
intended by my borrowing these delightful characters. Enjoy!
Now she knew where he lived.
He was hers. Hers to do with as she wished.
Hers to kill.
Vengeance. For
the other half of her soul.
"I dunno about this, Benny. I mean, things
seem to be going okay, the Dragon Lady finally decided to back off 'though I
have to admit I really, really didn't expect you'd ever grab me in your own
office and kiss the stuffing outta me-"
"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Ray."
"-not that I didn't enjoy it, cuz I did ...
what was that?"
"I have the utmost respect for Inspector Thatcher, and she is a
lovely woman. But I had to make it clear to her that there was no chance of she and I ever having a relationship of a personal sort.
Under other circumstances, I might well have reciprocated her apparent
affection, Ray."
Ray Vecchio stared hard at his partner.
"Oh?"
Swinging his head around from the zucchini he was dicing, Constable Ben
Fraser fixed his gaze on the single most important person in his life.
"But it's a moot point, Ray. I'm in love with you." Calmly, rationally. Diffusing any explosion before it could
take place. Mollified, Ray threw him a lopsided grin.
"That's okay, then. Just as long as she doesn't go
poachin' on my turf."
Ben bit back a smile at the mangled metaphor, deciding that the mix of
"What's mine I keep, Benny." The
tenderness underlying the declaration undid Fraser completely, and the Mountie let his head fall back to rest lightly on the wiry
shoulder behind him.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
She stared up at the single lighted window, mentally planning her route.
In her black jeans and jacket, a ball cap pulled over her sable brown hair, she
nearly blended into the shadows in the alley. The fire escape would make it so
much easier. Now for the rest of the plan ... to get rid of
the complication. She mentally reviewed the information she had beaten
out of a street source and drew the cellular phone from the inside of her
jacket. Dialed a number she had memorized earlier. Two quick rings,
and an irritated voice with a strong
"This better be good!" In the background she could hear the
clink of dishes. So domestic. For an instant, pure
hatred flashed behind her eyes, then she spoke gruffly into the phone.
"Vecchio. This is Midget. I got something for you."
A heartfelt sigh, then the voice again, if possible even more irritated.
"How important is this something, Midge? I'm in the middle of a
little somethin' myself here, and I'm really not in
the mood to play games with the likes of you."
"Hit goin' down. Target's the Mountie yer always hangin' with. Interested?" She could visualize the
quick, concerned glance the cop would throw at his lover, the decision to
follow through. "You gotta come alone,
though."
"When and where, Midge? And if you're yankin' my chain I'll bust your
head." She grinned maliciously. He had no idea.
"Fifth and
"Just a snitch I gotta
go see, Benny. Shouldn't take very long." Just
long enough, she smiled ferally at the thought. "Okay,
I'm there," she heard in her ear, and she cut the connection. Less than
three minutes later a tall, slender figure in a flapping gray trenchcoat flew down the front steps of the building. Her
smile widened, and she leapt nimbly to pull herself onto the lowest platform of
the fire escape. Within moments, she was at his window.
"If Ray had wanted us to go along, Diefenbaker, he would have
invited us. I know you feel uncomfortable just letting him go. Don't you think
I feel the same?" As he kept up a running monologue with the wolf, the Mountie was efficiently scraping and stacking dishes in the
sink. "But Ray is an adult, and a very proficient
policeman in his own right, and if he believes that his informant will only be
open wit-"
The wolf saw the face at his window and lunged, recognizing a threat
immediately. She fired through the open window, kicking in the bottom of the
frame immediately afterward. Diefenbaker fell with a thud to the floor,
whimpering, as blood began to soak his chest. Fraser had dropped flat to the
floor upon hearing the report of the gun, and now stared in horror at Dief. He looked up to see a woman standing over him, a
complete stranger. Before he could form the words to question her identity, the
handgun spat again, and fire spread through his midriff, stealing his breath.
"You never should have taken my Nicky," he thought he heard her
say, then the weapon fired a third time and the world went black.
Ray swerved the
Ben Fraser had done more for the people he met than any one person Ray
could even imagine. His neighborhood, one of the toughest in a very tough city,
had uniformly adopted him. The perps they brought in
together actually seemed to like the Mountie, almost
as much as they hated him. So, maybe this hit on the Canadian was actually
aimed at him. While their relationship wasn't broadcast, it also wasn't hidden,
and aside from some envious looks from both women and men at the station house,
no one had made a big deal about it. But if it really was targeted at Fraser,
why would Midge know about it? She was small potatoes. She didn't even-
His train of thought was derailed abruptly. There was Midget. Standing at the corner of Second and Columbus. Headed away from Fifth. As he slowed, she looked at him,
then quickly away. There was a rainbow of bruises decorating her pudgy face.
The vague suspicion in his gut solidified, and he pulled an illegal U-turn in
the middle of the block and, cutting off four cars, a truck and a taxi,
screamed back in the direction he'd just left.
The voice. It hadn't sounded
right.
He'd been set up.
Benny. Oh. Shit. Benny.
The flashing lights greeted him as he rounded the corner and screeched to
a stop half on the curb in front of the rat trap where Benny lived. Barely
remembering to pull the badge from his pocket, he pushed his way through the gawkers and patrolmen, bursting through the open door to
the apartment. The sight made his stomach clench.
Blood. Looked
like it was everywhere. A limp bundle of white fur laced with red,
almost imperceptibly moving up and down in uneven rhythm as the wolf struggled
for breath. And sprawled by the sink, shattered crockery
behind him and blood all over the front of him ... his Mountie.
The hair on the back on his neck stood straight out, and only the force of
anger so deep it was eating him from the inside kept him from howling in pain.
The paramedics were tending to the unconscious Benny, and Ray scooped up
towels from beside the table and rushed to Diefenbaker's side. The intelligent
eyes were dull, glazed with pain and defeat. Ray began to curse steadily under
his breath, Italian phrases learned at his father's knee, usually when his
father was drunk off his ass. Pressing the bandage firmly against the wolf's
chest, he glanced up to see Mr. Mustafi, staring at
the scene in horror.
"I called the police, as soon as I heard-"
"Mr. Mustafi," Ray cut him off
unceremoniously, "Do you know Doctor Anita Cooper over at the
A thin boy with huge brown eyes reached around the small crowd to lay a
hand on Ray's arm. "He'll be okay. We'll see to it." Ray looked down
and managed a tense smile.
"Thanks, Willie."
"No problem, man. You take care of the Mountie."
Ray nodded tersely and followed the stretcher out the door. He looked so
... pale, lying there. His thoughts were chasing themselves. So
helpless. So ... still. Too
damned still. No life at all. The thought frightened him, and he
deliberately closed off that avenue before it could paralyze him. Benny had to
make it. He just had to.
The alternative was unthinkable.
Nine hours of surgery, twenty cups of cold coffee emptied by a concerned Frannie after he ignored them, seven trips by Mama to the
nurses' station (each successively more heated), three visits from Elaine and
one long talk from Lieutenant Welsh later, and the doctor finally came out of
the surgery hallway. Ray didn't even realize he'd pushed past Elaine, still
speaking, since he hadn't heard anything she'd said anyway. His eyes were fixed
on the exhausted face of the doctor.
"Are you Ray?" the man asked, and Ray nodded, unable to say a
word. His eyes asked all the important questions. Will he live? Did you save
him? Did I lose the center of my life in there or will he make it?
The surgeon nodded, recognizing the agony in the man before him. He kept
the report brief and to the point. "The next twenty four hours are critical.
He lost a lot of blood, but he came through the surgery very well. He's a
strong man, and he's in excellent condition. I won't give you any false hope --
he sustained a lot of trauma, and he's going to have a long period of healing
to go through before he's healthy again. But his chances are good. If he gets
through the next day without any major complications he should be all
right."
Ray's eyes closed with relief. He didn't remember anything immediately
after that. He was too busy saying a silent prayer of thanks that his Benny had
been spared. Taking a deep breath, he swung around to face the doctor again.
Interrupting his conversation with Mama Vecchio, a
breach of manners she was quite willing to overlook given the state of her
son's mental health and her own relief that her boy Ben was going to be okay,
Ray begged, "Can I see him?"
The doctor smiled up at him. "He's in recovery now. When they've
settled him into his room you can go right in." He swung around to face
the other anxious people waiting for the same thing. "But I have to limit
his visitors to immediate family only. He's very weak, and he can't be seeing
too many people. Besides," he added parenthetically, "he's asleep, so
there won't be much to see anyway."
Ray badgered the nurse at the desk until she found out the room number,
then kissed his mother one more time and shooed them all home. He would stay
with Ben, they could go and get some rest. Mama Vecchio left, muttering about the different dishes she
would be cooking to feed her Ben back to health, while Frannie
was verbally sorting through the various vitamins she could force down him to
speed the healing process. Elaine gave him a sympathetic look, and he smiled
wearily back before heading directly to Fraser's bedside.
He sat, slumped in the uncomfortable vinyl chair, staring at the tubes
and wires attached to every part of Fraser that wasn't covered in bandages. As
he watched his partner, the anger began to burn again. Someone had done this to
his Benny. Someone was going to pay. He'd find the bastard, and he'd take every
ounce of Benny's pain out of his skin. Settling deeper into the chair, he
pulled out his cellular and called the veterinarian's office. The animal
hospital had taken care of Dief in the past, and
besides having a doctor he trusted, it had a night emergency number. Anita
lived in an small apartment above the public area, so
she was available. He sent another small, heartfelt thank you skyward when she
confirmed that the wolf was going to pull through. Ray flipped the phone shut
and scooted the chair closer to Ben's bedside, until he could slide his hand
between the bars on the side rail and fold the long, cold fingers in his own
warm hand. He leaned his chin against the top rail and stared at his Ben. He
was going to be okay. He had to be.
Throughout the silent hours of the night, interrupted only briefly by the
brisk movements of the nurses changing the iv bag, checking Fraser's vitals,
looking wisely at all the machines making their little clicks and whistles, Ray
kept vigil and thought furiously. By a little after six the next morning, when
Benny finally opened glazed blue eyes to stare unerringly at his Ray, the
detective had narrowed the list to four. Men whom he had put
away, who were out and might be looking for payback. Fraser's first
words blew his carefully constructed suspect list to shreds.
"She knew me, Ray," he whispered, throat dry from the oxygen
and the anesthesia. Ben tightened his fingers around his partner's hand. Ray
instinctively returned the pressure, then spooned some
ice chips into Ben's mouth, easing the dryness somewhat.
"She, Fraser?" His tone was incredulous. Then he stopped
abruptly. Made sense. Somebody had to imitate Midge's
voice on the phone. "Who was she?"
The Mountie looked helplessly confused, not a
standard expression for him. "I haven't the faintest idea, Ray. I'd never
seen her before in my life."
"Why the hell would a perfect stranger go to all this trouble,
Benny?" Urgency leant harshness to his words. "Did she give you any clue
why she might be out huntin' Canucks?"
Ben bit his lip lightly, eyes narrowing as he forced himself to remember
the rush of events leading to his shooting. At a stray thought, he tried to
bolt upright, only the wires and tubes keeping him in bed. In a flash, Ray was
at his side, gently pushing him back into bed.
"Whoa, there, Mountie, you're not goin' anywhere!" He held Ben gently down, avoiding the
bandages, stroking him softly, as if he was gentling a wild animal.
"Dief! She shot Dief, Ray." The pain in his eyes
hurt his partner clear to his soul. He hated to see his Benny in pain.
"Willie and Mr. Mustafi took him to see
Doc Anita, and she says he's gonna be fine, Benny.
Now, would you please lay down and calm down before Attila the Nurse comes in
and tosses me out on my keister for gettin' you all excited?" He tried to look stern. As
usual, it failed. Ben smiled lopsidedly up at him.
"You always do, Ray." While the cop was trying to recover from
this completely unexpected compliment, Fraser turned serious. "She said
something about a Nick, or Nicky. I think ... I believe she may have been
referring to someone she cared about whom I arrested. She had a slight accent,
a combination of stresses that lead me to speculate that she came from
"I'll look into it, Benny. Your job is to stay here and get
well." He leaned over and kissed him gently, wordlessly expressing his
relief and love. Ben returned the love full measure, and settled into his
pillow, almost asleep already.
"Please ... be careful, Ray." His eyes pleaded with the
detective to watch his back. If this woman was determined to hurt him, his
partner could very well be a target. Dark, expressive eyes registered the
warning and flashed reassurance, before the other man turned and walked from
the room. Ben watched the doorway for a long moment, missing him already.
"You're a lucky man, son."
Just what he needed. "I thought you didn't like Ray, Dad."
"Well, I admit I'd rather have seen you with that lovely Inspector,
Benton, but a man can't dictate some things. No matter how much he might like
to." Fraser grinned ruefully at the slightly disgruntled tone of the
ghost's voice. "And he's a good man to have on your side, in a situation
like this."
The live Mountie turned his head rather
painfully to look directly at the dead Mountie.
"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Dad?"
His father's shade looked seriously at him. "Been
awhile, son. Think fallen angels and innocence lost." With that, he
disappeared, leaving Fraser to stare blankly at the wall.
"Now, that's a great deal of help!" he groused before
falling into a healing sleep.
The next three days were a whirlwind of activity that left them just
exactly where they began. Nowhere.
"Are you sure these are all of 'em,
Inspector?!"
Meg Thatcher looked at the drawn features in front of her and bit back
the sarcastic response hovering on the tip of her tongue. Ben Fraser was
important to her, too, and she wanted to find the person responsible for
hurting him almost as badly as the man opposite of her. Instead of snapping at
him, she took a deep breath and stared at the huge pile of neatly typed reports
covering her desk.
"Detective Vecchio, Constable Fraser has
been a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police for sixteen years. During
that time he has made a practice of keeping detailed, precise reports of every
case he has worked. This. Is.
All. There. Is." She
punctuated each word with a sharp rap of her index finger on the top file.
Silence greeted her pronouncement. She took another breath and lifted her eyes
to meet Ray's. He stared at her for a long moment, his usually mobile face
completely still, then bit his lip.
"I'm sorry. I'm just ..." his voice trailed off, and she
nodded.
"Understood."
His eyes widened. "Is that a Canadian thing?" At her
uncomprehending look, he shrugged it off. "Doesn't
matter. Let's go through these again. There's gotta
be a Nick in there someplace who isn't dead or in lock up."
Ben shifted uneasily in his sleep. The dreams had been coming more
frequently, a kaleidoscope of images mixing Inuit mythology and memories of the
Michel.
Michael.
Mickey. Not Nicky. Mickey.
The name brought him to full consciousness, reaching for the phone as a
strong, feminine hand caught his wrist and bent it backward. He gasped at the
pain as the needle from his iv tube was wrenched from
his arm.
"I see you finally remember him," she said clearly, enunciating
so that he could understand her words, so that he would know why he had to die.
She had never thought herself capable of killing anyone. But now it seemed such
a simple thing to do. She looked into his pain-dulled blue eyes, finding
herself hating him all over again, for being so beautiful and doing such an
evil thing, for using his damned duty as an excuse for hurting people, for
being alive when her twin, her other half, was dead.
"Marielle Lambent. You were ... at his trial."
She smiled at him, smoothing his hair back with a travesty of gentleness
before clenching her fist in the thickness at the crown of his head and pulling
his face close to hers. She kissed him lightly, a chaste, closed kiss, like a
final benediction, and bent to whisper to him.
"You were his executioner. For that, you will join him."
Ray had been getting progressively antsier as
the morning wore on. Meg continued to scan the records as quickly and
thoroughly as possible, but she finally couldn't stand his bouncing anymore and
had to call him on it.
"Detective ... Ray -- are you all right?"
He stared at her for a moment as if he didn't recognize her, then his
eyes cleared. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to her feet. Ignoring her
strangled squawk of protest, he headed for the door at top speed, towing her
along behind him.
"Something's wrong, Meg. We gotta get to
Benny."
Deciding to trust his instincts, she stopped protesting and joined him at
a near run to the Riv.
Fraser knew he'd not be able to fight her off. The combination of pain medication
and his injuries had weakened him, and her hatred was fueling an adrenaline
rush that was making her unusually strong. He had to try to reason with her,
but he wasn't sure just how much reasoning she would hear. He glanced in some
despair at the door. She had shoved a chair under the handle. Even if he could
have reached his call button, no one could come in, and he wasn't sure he'd
want them to. If she was going to become violent, he wouldn't want any
civilians to get hurt.
"Miss Lambent. Marielle. Please. Tell me what's going on. If you're determined to
kill me I'd really like to know why."
"You remember my brother." At his tentative nod, she unwound
her fingers from his hair and began absently patting it down. At the same time,
her other hand slid up the front of his hospital gown to come to rest at the
base of his throat. "You put him in prison."
"He was convicted of robbery, Marielle."
He kept his voice soft, soothing. She bent over him again.
"It was not a thing to die for."
Meg held on to the dashboard as Ray gunned the car, swerving through
traffic with one hand clenching the wheel and the other punching numbers on his
cel phone. The third time they narrowly escaped a
head-on collision with another car she gave up any pretense of bravery and shut
her eyes. If he was going to kill her she didn't want to know about it in
advance. Her attention was caught by his voice barking into the phone.
"No! Don't knock on the door, and don't try to force it. Since it's
blocked from inside we can assume that she's in there with Fraser. Get the cops
there but don't let them go blowing their way in until I get there. You
understand me?"
She fetched up sharply against the door as Ray swung the Riv into the emergency entrance driveway, stopping halfway
onto the sidewalk.
"Leaving room for the ambulance, I see. How thoughtful," she
muttered, but he didn't hear her, still snarling at the person on the other end
of the line.
"We're here now. Be there in two." He flipped the phone shut
and flew out the door, reaching for his gun with the other hand. She was right
on his heels, wishing, not for the first time, that she was authorized to carry
her own weapon. Going into a situation like this without it felt very much like
walking into work without any clothes. So much for a
diplomatic mission. Since meeting Benton Fraser and his unusual friend,
she was spending more time on police work than she ever expected to, being
posted to a Consulate. Her pingponging thoughts were
interrupted as Ray slid to a stop outside an ominously closed door.
Ray took up a position with one ear clamped to the door, a finger in his
other ear. He could just make out a one-sided conversation, and the timbre of
the voice brought him up short. It was the woman. And from the way she was
talking, it wasn't looking good for Benny. He looked around somewhat wildly for
a way to get in, any way to get in, when Thatcher's hand on his forearm stopped
him. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she pointed at the hinges along the door
frame. Before he could stop to think, she handed him a rather
wicked looking pocket knife and he began to pry the hinge out, as quietly as
possible, and as fast as he could. He felt a body by his knees, and
looked down to see Meg digging at the lower hinge with a flat screwdriver. He
smiled grimly and bent to his task. They had to be in time. They just had to.
"I didn't know about Michel. What happened to him?" The sorrow
in his voice was unfeigned. Michel Lambent had been a decent young man who had fallen
into the wrong company and gotten in over his head. The robberies had been
escalating, and an elderly woman had been killed in her own home, when Fraser
had captured the three men responsible. Michel had been one of them. He had
pleaded ignorance of the murder, and Ben had believed him, but he had been
sentenced with his cohorts shortly before Fraser Senior had been murdered and
Ben had relocated to
"Do you know what happens to men who look like Michel when they are
sent to prison, Constable?" She could read the answer in his dismayed
expression. "He tried to fight them. There were too many. And he still
fought them. Until they broke him." She swallowed
heavily, fighting the horror of the memory. "Do you know that there is a
connection between twins, Constable? A sharing? Do you
understand what such a tie is like?" She bent until her face was
centimeters from his, her eyes blurring in front of his, her breath warm on his
cheek. "I knew what they did to him. I was there,
I felt every pain he did. And when it was over and they left him in his own
blood, I felt him give up. I knew when he took the glass to his wrists. I knew
when he died." She was crying now, her tears falling on his jaw, trailing
along his throat. "They called it a suicide. It was no suicide." Her
hand closed around his throat, squeezing slowly, inexorably. His hands clutched
at her arm, but she was driven by more than human strength, by the memories and
the pain. "You killed him. You ripped out the other half of my soul."
The world was closing in on him, alarms going off on his heart monitor as
his pulse soared, his oxygen machine, even his iv
regulator as it finally registered the backup from being taken from his vein.
As the world went dark there was a startling crash from the side of the room.
"Freeze! Police! Get
your goddamned hands off him, you bitch!"
She didn't even hear Ray's warning scream, just pressed harder. Ray saw
Ben's face go slack and his finger pulled at the trigger. The first shot caught
her high in the shoulder, and she jerked, but incredibly she managed to hold
on. The second shot took her full in the chest. She was torn from the bedside
to land against the far wall. Ray was at Fraser's side in a heart beat, as
Thatcher went directly to the assailant and felt for a nonexistent pulse. The
second shot had been true.
Doctors and nurses and technicians swarmed the room, separating Ray from
Ben, rushing to repair the damage caused by the intruder. Ray looked blankly
down at the Inspector. She stood and moved closer to him, moved by the obvious
exhaustion in his stance, then drew him into a hug. He didn't hesitate, just
leaned into her embrace, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He was so
tired. But it was okay, it was all going to be okay. They'd got there in time.
Benny was all right. He didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until he heard Meg
repeat it, reassuringly.
"Yes, Ray. He's going to be all right. You're okay. It's all going
to be all right."
As he watched the medical personnel working over his partner, he finally
allowed himself to believe it.
It had been a long four months of recovery, but Fraser was inclined to
believe it had been worth it, if only for the incredible welcome home dinner
Mama Vecchio had prepared for them. He looked across
the table at Meg Thatcher, listening bemusedly to Frannie
telling her all about a new deep oil conditioning treatment that would work
really well on her hair while Mama kept slipping more pasta on her plate to
'get some meat on her bones.' The Vecchio clan had
found another Canadian to adopt. Meg's role in their Ben's rescue had
guaranteed her a permanent place in the family.
He smiled to himself and privately wondered how long it would be before
they started matchmaking for her. His left hand was firmly held by Ray, who
couldn't seem to let him go even long enough to eat. Not that he was
complaining. He lifted another forkful of chicken
His eyes met Ray and they smiled at one another, a pool of silence in the
middle of a typical, rowdy Vecchio family dinner.
Whatever happened, they would face it together. Marielle's
heartbroken question came back to him, and he took a deep breath. Yes, he
understood quite well what it was to feel connected to another, to have a
soul-deep tie.
Tony's loud voice broke in, ragging on Frannie
for going on and on about her shampoos. Mama passed yet another helping of
polenta to Meg, who looked dazed. Ray shook his head, and Ben laughed softly. All
of them, together.
End