InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Thranduil though, amirite?"

Inspector Meg Thatcher, RCMP (megthatcher) wrote in utr_logs,
@ 2009-11-07 14:23:00

Entry tags:

constable benton fraser, inspector meg thatcher

On State Street, that great street....
WHO: Meg Thatcher and Constable Benton Fraser
WHAT: Meg arrives for her new undercover assignment
WHERE: Chicago, IL
WHEN: Late in the afternoon
WARNINGS: ~~Doubtful; will update as needed.~~The Mounties are makin' out again. Sex can't be far behind.

I just wanna say
They do things they don't do on Broadway
You'll have the time, the time of your life
Bring all your friends, all your kids, and your wife....

Meg Thatcher had been feeling the effects of fatigue when the cab dropped her off on Stetson Avenue, but she feels a fresh surge of adrenaline as she enters the tall building at 180 North to take the elevator to the 24th floor.

2 ... 5 ... 9 ... 11 ... 20 ... 21 ... 22 ... 23 ... 24....

Incredible. A far cry from the relatively modest structure they had used on her arrival to Chicago years ago, and more modern and efficient (though less elegant) than its successor. She can't help but envy Ben his posting, though she knows how unhappy he is here. He doesn't need to say anything for her to understand that.

Still, as she walks from the elevator down the hall to the large glass doors, she finds her pace quickening, and she has to force herself to a more sedate stroll, resisting the urge to yank open the door engraved with the single maple leaf.

A young, dark-haired, olive-skinned woman in the blue Undress Order of the RCMP greets her with a polite smile, then a sudden widening of the eyes. "Ah, welcome to the Canadian Consulate of Chicago," she says, eying Meg with greater than usual interest. "How may I assist you?"

Meg swallows, her throat feeling suddenly dry. "I'm here for the Registration of Canadians Abroad service. I understand there's some paperwork I'll need to fill out while I'm here at the University of Chicago?"

"Yes," says the constable, her gaze flicking curiously to Meg's left hand. "It's not a requirement, but we do recommend all Canadian citizens register when they'll be traveling abroad, either before they leave or once they arrive at their destination." She glances about. The office seems relatively quiet at this hour, Consular staff preparing to wind up the final minutes of their day in their cubicles. "If you'll follow me? Constable Fraser would be happy to assist you."

The two women make their way through the maze of bureaucratic furniture until they arrive at the cubicle labeled with the name Meg has held in her thoughts all day.

CONSTABLE BENTON FRASER

The muzzle of an Arctic wolf can be seen at the cubicle's entrance, close to the floor, pointed in the direction of the office chair occupied by the cubicle's resident Mountie.

"Fraser?" says Hourani. "Could you help this lady with her ROCA paperwork?"

(Post a new comment)

	chicagomountie 2009-11-08 01:53 pm UTC (link)
	Fraser turns in his seat, and gets instantly to his feet-- an almost reflexive action, regardless of who is commanding his attention. His gaze settles on Meg for a prolonged moment, before he looks to Hourani. "Certainly," he says, with a smile that's a distinct shade more than merely courteous. (Reply to this) (Thread)

megthatcher
2009-11-08 04:36 pm UTC (link)

"Thank you," Meg says, her gaze likewise lingering on Fraser.

"Great." Hourani's grin is quickly replaced by her most serious expression. "I've got visa applications to finish processing, so ... I'll see you later, Fraser?" Much later, her eyes imply, and then she makes her way out of the cubicle.

Meg seats herself in the small chair provided for visitors. She can't be staring at Fraser the whole time, and so she switches her gaze to Diefenbaker. "You have a wolf," she says. Inane, but not even for the sake of her cover ID will she refer to Diefenbaker as a dog.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

chicagomountie
2009-11-08 08:29 pm UTC (link)

Fraser waits for her to seat herself before he takes his own once again.

He'd been used to the act, back home. Being indifferent, that is. Not that they'd ever been that good at it. And that was long before they'd even gotten ... well. Serious.

Married, even.

It's a lot harder now, he realises, as he reaches for the paperwork.

"It would probably be more accurate to say that he has me," he replies. Diefenbaker's head lifts-- he smells a familiar scent, after all, and his ears prick forward. He shifts his bulk, gets to his padded feet, and ambles over, his curled tail waving slowly.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	megthatcher 2009-11-08 08:46 pm UTC (link)
	"Isn't that how such things work?" She extends a hand for Diefenbaker to sniff. "Speaking of how things work ... the ROCA paperwork. Will it take long for me to fill it out? I've had rather a long day already. I'm a graduate student in criminal justice over at the University of Chicago. I haven't even finished moving into residence yet." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

chicagomountie
2009-11-08 08:59 pm UTC (link)

He understands undercover work. Really. He does.

It doesn't mean he has to like it. Or that he can be comfortable with the idea of pretending he doesn't know the woman sitting across from him. The reality of that is just beginning to sink in. How long will this have to go on?

Diefenbaker shoves his muzzle into her hand. I already know what you smell like. Pet me, already!

"Not at all," he replies, pushing the sheet across the desk toward her. "It's merely one page, and if one takes into account a person's average writing speed, should require no more than eight minutes at the outside."

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chicagomountie
2009-11-09 12:39 am UTC (link)

It's drizzling lightly in the growing dark as he makes his way across the street to the apartment building. Clad entirely in civilian wear-- he's even left his trademark Stetson back at the Consulate-- Fraser's only distinct from anyone else thanks to the white wolf who alternately trails him and trots ahead of him; though he could be mistaken easily for an Alaskan Malamute.

It's with this spattering of light rain across his shoulders and in his hair that he arrives on the third floor, and at the door to Meg's new apartment. He pauses briefly before he raps sharply on its wooden surface.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

megthatcher
2009-11-09 12:43 am UTC (link)

The door swings away from his fist, revealing the woman he married. No matter what she is calling herself now, for on her left hand gleams green and gold.

"Ben," she whispers, then steps back, inviting him inside. As the door swings more widely open, he can see that it is small; the entire apartment is perhaps the size of their bedroom and bathroom back in England. A small cluster of suitcases, together with two boxes, sit in the middle of the living room.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

chicagomountie
2009-11-09 12:48 am UTC (link)

Clothed in secrecy. Even their very infrequent stolen moments back in the Chicago they knew were not like this.

He pauses a moment before he steps across the threshold and inside the small apartment; the folder he'd promised earlier tucked under one arm. Diefenbaker has no such compunction about waiting-- there's new things to sniff and explore in here, after all, and so he trots inside with his usual confidence to go nosing around.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	megthatcher 2009-11-09 12:52 am UTC (link)
	She closes the door behind him, fastening both locks before turning around to embrace him tightly, whispering in his ear, "God, I've missed you." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	chicagomountie 2009-11-09 04:37 am UTC (link)
	It's a complete 180 from the profound awkwardness earlier that afternoon. But it's a welcome one: the one he would have preferred, had he not been working, and she not pretending to be someone she wasn't. His free arm slides around her, pulling her close. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

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	Later chicagomountie 2009-11-10 12:15 pm UTC (link)
	They can. They do. They arrive back at the apartment a matter of hours later-- well, they arrive a few times, carrying boxes from the car-- and the final trip, much to Diefenbaker's delight, is the retrieval of the bag containing their dinner. Cantonese, to be precise. (Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Later

megthatcher
2009-11-10 02:29 pm UTC (link)

Automatically Meg has directed boxes to be left in the rooms where the furniture will reside ... not that her husband needed much in the way of direction. She finds herself enjoying the fact that she no longer needs to deliver orders as she did when he was her subordinate: a simple tilt of the head, perhaps a word or two, are sufficient for understanding.

"Food first," she says at last. "I'm starving, though my body isn't sure if it wants breakfast or dinner at this point." She hates jet lag.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	Re: Later chicagomountie 2009-11-10 02:44 pm UTC (link)
	Benton smiles as he sets the bag on the kitchen counter and begins to unpack its contents. "Well," he says, "You could have 'breakfast' now, and 'dinner' after we're done." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	Re: Later megthatcher 2009-11-10 03:03 pm UTC (link)
	And you for dessert? "As long as it's food," she says, not wanting to say anything provocative. At least not now. A less transcendent appetite demands satisfaction at the moment. "I don't have much in the way of dishes, but they gave us chopsticks, didn't they?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	Re: Later chicagomountie 2009-11-10 03:13 pm UTC (link)
	"Taken care of," he says, withdrawing a few paper plates along with the aforementioned chopsticks. In short order, those self-same plates are loaded, and Diefenbaker's portion is set down before the eager Arctic wolf. Rather than sit on the floor, however, Benton chooses to lean against the kitchen counter. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

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	Still later megthatcher 2009-11-11 03:52 pm UTC (link)
	"This panel was not cut properly," growls a now-frustrated Meg. "You can't tell me these are 90-degree angles on the corners here." (Reply to this) (Thread)

	Re: Still later chicagomountie 2009-11-11 06:24 pm UTC (link)
	"I can't. Because they're not," he replies evenly, from his crosslegged position on the floor. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	Re: Still later megthatcher 2009-11-11 06:28 pm UTC (link)
	She glares at the panel, as if that would change its geometry. "What can we do to fix it?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Still later

chicagomountie
2009-11-11 06:52 pm UTC (link)

He tries to resist a smile at her obvious frustration. He's not sure how she'd take it.

It's hard. He doesn't quite manage it.

"Well, the ideal solution would be another panel, from the same material. This one's angle is insufficient, rather than exceeding its tolerance, so it's more difficult to add mass rather than subtract it. But I believe a judicious placement will mean less of a gap than would otherwise result, particularly if I cut along this half-way fold line, and realign it accordingly."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	Re: Still later megthatcher 2009-11-11 06:59 pm UTC (link)
	"Do it." She folds her arms, still scowling at the panel. "I'm glad I didn't pay too much for this. It's ridiculous." If only she could have brought the one he made her over here, but a handmade piece such as that would be out of place in a graduate student's apartment. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)