Disclaimer: Alliance owns them, and I mean no disrespect by borrowing them. This is strictly for private amusement and no money changed hands. E-mail is of course strongly encouraged.
Warning: This is for general audiences, but may offend some readers. This can be read in relation to Antipodes but it doesn't have to be.
"He's fallen in love, you know." Robert Fraser, unhappy as he might be about the particulars, needed to talk to somebody.
Buck Frobisher inwardly sighed at the statement of his dead friend. Sleep seemed to ever be the trade-off for company; but it was relatively early, he still might manage some sleep this evening. "Love you say? Well, well. I take this has been going on for awhile? Otherwise you wouldn't be bothering to mention it."
"They've spent the holidays together. Started dating at the end of September."
Four months. "And it's not in the papers?" Buck remembered the last time Bob's son was struck by romance. He'd been one of the few people conscious on that hurtling train.
He had to laugh; it was better than crying. *Not yet.* He hoped it never would be.
"What's this new one like? Does she have more in common with Ben, than the Inspector did?"
*That's one way of putting it.* "This one isn't a Mountie. Frankly, that's a relief in itself. Ben actually does things for fun now."
"Really? Must be a remarkable woman. Honestly, I was getting to wonder if fun was something your son understood. Can she share him with his duty? Not every woman can handle that; takes a special breed."
"From what I've heard, this one wouldn't have him any other way. That might change if he got shipped up to the Rat; but as long as he is tearing around Chicago..."
He knew this was a sore point with his friend. It was a hard price to pay, watching your son sent away, because he solved your murder. "We both know the Consulate may be long term. He's a fine officer; the Yanks appreciate him at least."
"I'd feel better if Canada did. If the R.C.M.P. did." It was a hard feeling, being dead with bitterness growing for what you had lived your life. What was your son's life.
Words couldn't offer solace for that wound. It was moments like these, Buck wished he'd been able to bring in Gerrard. "They'll come around; not everyone is set against him, you know. The ones coming through now, they look up to your son. They see him as the standard to try to reach. Between that, and finding love, I think Chicago is treating Ben pretty well."
"Do they?" When he was alive, even as Ben's father, he had heard the way his son was talked about. His every virtue held up as a fault, his methods mocked. Knew that his son heard the sniggers of his fellow officers.
"Yes. Ben gets results, results they take seriously." Unlike the fishing and game violations that once were his bread and butter. "So, he's fallen in love, and she's going in eyes open? Tell me more."
*Two out of three, Buck, two out of three.* "Tall would be on the list; nearly of a height, I'd say. He's been know to go on and on about subtle changes in eye color."
"How long until they are engaged?" Certainly, it's love alright, if he cannot only notice that, but also put it into words. "You don't think he'll let this one slip out of his hands, do you?"
"I think he's aware how lucky he's gotten." Even if his dad wishes for something more. "I'd better leave; let you get some sleep."
"Thank you for visiting. And telling me about Ben." He figured his friend was relieved Ben was thawing out and settling down. If anyone deserved a measure of happiness, it would be Benton; he'd been cheated out of it for so long.
*Thank you old friend, for making me see things a little clearer. Hope you can still see it, if you find out his remarkable woman is a man.*
Frameless?
More Fiction