Edible

'Normally, I hate the colour yellow. It’s such an obscene colour. Francesca looked like a frickin’ lemon. Only one person I know could carry it off. It must be something in those gold flecks in her eyes.

'What am I thinking? She makes me crazy! She’s a heartless pain in the ass. Why on earth would anyone want to be around her? You know what would really piss her off? If I said:'

"But she had nothing to do with it, Lieutenant. I mean, she was probably the cause of it…"

'Ha ha ha ha ha! That really irritated her. Look at her chest heaving. She gets angry at every little thing. I can’t even stand being in the same room with her. She’s insane! I see the way Fraser looks at her. What a frickin’ mess he must be inside to want her.'

"Oh! I see! Just because she’s a woman, she can’t be the killer, she can only be the motive?"

'Oh shut the hell up! What do you know, you crazy controlling bitch?'

"Oh, it's good to be the motive, very good to be the motive."

'He he he. That got her!'

"She's not the motive, she's the killer."

"She’s NOT the killer!"

"She’s the killer!"

"She’s NOT the killer!"

'God she’s hot.'

'What a Pez head!' Thatcher made a face at the detective and explained what she saw. Kowalski countered every move.

Ray barely listened to the woman, tuning in just in time to hear: "This was obviously not a crime of logic. It was a crime of passion." 'Passion? What would she know about passion?'

"Because he's dating this woman who he's in love with, but she's not really in love with him." Ray frowned. 'There goes Frannie, talking about her stupid books. She just doesn’t get it.'

Thatcher stiffened. "She and the young man were friends."

'Oh, God, what is she crazy?   They weren’t friends! They were' "Lovers."

"Friends!" Thatcher insisted.

"Lovers," Ray repeated.

"It is possible for a man and a woman to develop a personal, platonic relationship based on friendship, a shared sense of values, and mutual respect."

"Yeah, on Mars, maybe." 'Ha ha ! Look at the fire in her eyes. That got her. I wonder just how far I can push her?' Ray listened as she then presented her theory on the case. When her hand reached to touch Fraser’s cheek, he thought he would choke. 'A train? What was that about a train?'

~~~~

After spending the day making him crazy, Fraser and Thatcher helped them catch the killer, then left the station.   Ray was left alone to his thoughts.   Writing up the reports, he found it distracted him until he was met by the surprise of his life. Over an hour later, Inspector Thatcher crossed the bullpen and stopped before his desk. "I’ve nearly had it with you," she stated.

Ray jumped to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"I keep trying to ignore your behaviour, but I’m not going to stand by anymore. You continually undermine my authority…"

"What authority? You’re Canadian, this is the US. You can’t boss me around!" Noting that everyone’s attention had turned to them, he cleared his throat. "Why don’t we take this into interview one?"

"Yes, why don’t we," Thatcher agreed curtly.

Alone in the interrogation room, Ray folded his arms. "Why did you come all the way down here to tell me this?"

"You are a complete idiot!" Thatcher began immediately.

"What?"

"I’ve had it with your antics, always getting Fraser into trouble. Why can’t you just show a little respect?" she reprimanded.

"Hey, lady," Ray began with an accusatory finger pointed in her face. "You’re not my superior officer. You don’t get to talk to me the way you do Fraser."

"Perhaps I should bring up your insubordination with the lieutenant."

"Go ahead. You think he cares that I argued with you?" Ray’s heart rate increased as he stepped closer.

Feeling threatened, Thatcher straightened. "Do you ever think before you speak?"

"Rarely!" Ray snapped, then felt something snap inside of him. Without thinking, he grabbed her and pushed her against the wall, kissing her deeply. Meg had no time to react as she felt his lips press seductively against her own.

An instant later, Ray stepped back, the look of horror in his eyes being mirrored by her own. They stood frozen and silent for several seconds, neither wanting to admit that they had enjoyed the brief moment.

Finally, Meg spoke. "I think we’d better stay away from each other."

"That’ll be hard with Fraser and all."

Meg nodded agreement. "Then we’ll vow not to speak to each other."

"Agreed," Ray said and opened the door. "And that’s why I call you the Ice Queen."

Ray closed the door before she had the chance to react. She finally convinced her feet to move away from the wall and stepped into the hallway. Walking down the corridor, she stepped into the ladies room. Standing before the mirror, she saw her flushed cheeks and immediately turned on the faucet.   The cold water cooled her skin, her temper, and her passion.

~~~~

Ray was awake the entire night.   Every time he closed his eyes, he felt a fever rush over him and saw that look in her eyes. She was a deadly siren, calling to him through his visions.   As her temper had risen, her eyes grew passionate and he couldn’t resist taking them into his soul.

Rolling over, Ray tried again to sleep just in time to hear his alarm ringing.

~~~~~

Carrying a cup in one hand, Ray walked into the Consulate slowly. No sign of Turnbull or Fraser left him free to wander the place. More boldly, he went to Inspector Thatcher’s door and knocked.

"What?" the voice came aggressively through the heavy wood.

Ray opened the door and moved inside, closing the door behind him. Thatcher was on the phone and she glanced at Ray. "I'd better call you back," she said calmly. "Yes… I understand… goodbye."

She hung up and stood. Folding her arms, she walked around to the other side of her desk. "What are you doing here?"

Ray smiled boyishly and shrugged.

"I thought we agreed not to speak again," she added.

Ray nodded slowly and stepped toward her, backing her into the desk. He leaned forward and she leaned back. Placing the paper cup on her desk, Ray used both hands to grab each side of Meg’s head and hold it still while he leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against hers. Meg grunted as she tried to push him, but he held firm, nibbling and sucking on her lips. The grunt changed to a moan and she wrapped her arms around him.

Ray ran a hand along her side and to her thigh. Caressing the thigh through her tight skirt, he moved his kisses along her jaw to her ear. Teething it gently, he touched the lobe with his tongue.

A shiver ran down Meg’s spine and she leaned against the desk for support. "What are we doing?" she whispered, her voice nearly blocked by passion.

Ray ran his other hand along her side and put both hands at the back of her thighs, lifting her to sit on the edge of the desk. Moving his hands to her knees, Ray then ran his hands up, pushing the bottom of her skirt up until he could touch the flesh of her ass. Meg held Ray close, leaning her head back as his kisses now traced a line down the neck and into her blouse. Ray’s tongue rolled from his mouth and licked the sweet flesh in her cleavage.   Now he pushed her back onto the desk and climbed onto his knees over her. Kissing her lips again as he laid her back, she brushed her hands along his spine.

"And I thought you called me Ice Queen," she breathed in lust, a small grin finding its way to her lips.

Ray smiled. "Shhh, no talking," he breathed into her ear, sending the nerve endings into spasm. Picking up the paper cup, he showed his teeth. "I’m making you my Ice Queen." He remarked, then placed the cup to his lips and threw his head back.

Keeping his mouth closed, he tore open the front of Meg’s blouse and leaned over her. Meg felt something very cold begin to caress her abdomen.   She stiffened and Ray looked into her eyes. He smiled slightly to show the melting ice cube between his teeth. A drop dribbled from his lips and landed on her breast, then he put his mouth to hers and slipped the ice against her tongue.

Meg groaned and tugged at his shirt until she had removed it and bared his chest. Thankful now that she hadn’t finished her laundry, she had been left with her only front closing bra which Ray now unclasped. Cupping one breast, he bent over and tongued her other nipple.   Feeling him hardening against her thigh, Meg ran her fingers along his chest and worked expediently at the buckle of his belt.

Ray brushed his fingertips along her abdomen and used both hands to push her skirt farther up. She shifted to make his movements easier, then struggled to help him as he tugged at her panties. Finally freeing them, she worked them down her calves and kicked them from her foot, all the while working to finally free his growing erection from the confines of his jeans.

Now moving their legs until he knelt between her thighs, she wrapped her legs around him, gently touching his jaw and guiding it back to her lips. The passionate kissing grew more firm and intense and Meg let a moan escape. Ray touched her nipple, gently pinching at it before he ran his hand down between her legs. Spreading her, he slid a finger inside and let the wet warmth surround it. He began to push in a second finger and Meg gasped, barely able to breathe. Slowly moving his fingers from inside her, he left a moist trail along her leg and massaged her outer thigh as he shoved his way inside her.

Rhythmically going into motion, he heard her moan again and felt a heat rise in his groin. Thrusting deeper and deeper, his heart pounded and he listened as the moans grew closer together. Ray then realized some of them were escaping his own throat.   Just as he felt he would burst, he tightened his muscles and held his breath, his eyes closing automatically. Meg gasped for air and groaned passionately, her heart racing. Ray felt her pulsating contractions and let himself go. A deep moan starting in his throat, Ray grabbed her thigh and squeezed. Forgetting the heat he felt a moment ago, they were breathing in unison. Ray leaned toward her breast and took it in his mouth.

Just at that moment a knock at the door caused them both to freeze and stare into each other’s frightened eyes.   Meg couldn’t get the air to breathe, let alone speak as the lingering convulsions still consumed her. She pushed at Ray’s shoulders and he moved back. As his feet touched the floor, he grabbed the desk, nearly losing his balance.

Quickly the pair worked to make themselves presentable and Meg found her voice. "Who is it?"

"Constable Fraser."

They both gulped and she tried to relax by taking a deep breath. "What it is?"

"I finished the budget reports," he replied.

"Put them on Turnbull’s desk," she ordered.

"Yes, sir," he replied.

Ray looked into her eyes and saw that they were still darkened from the passion. The gold flecks seemed brighter now and he pulled his shirt over his head.

"You’re still an idiot," she said with a soft smile.

Ray grabbed her around the waist, stopping her from finishing the top button. He pressed his lips to hers and caressed them deeply with his own for several seconds before letting her go. "And you love every minute of it," he said softly as he tugged his belt into place and hurried from the office.

Fraser stood at Turnbull’s desk and a look of confusion crossed his face when he saw Ray emerge from Thatcher’s office. Ray cleared his throat before thinking of an appropriate lie. "Welsh asked me to come down and give some sort of official Canadian report thing to the Inspector."

"Ah," Fraser replied, trying to think of what the ‘thing’ could possibly be.

Ray nodded and smiled slightly.   "Uh, I have to get back to the precinct," he said quickly and excused himself from the Consulate without giving Fraser a chance to respond.

Fraser knocked again on the Inspector’s door.

"Yes?" she said smoothly.

"May I enter?" Benton requested politely.

Meg leaned back. She’d grown so fond of Fraser, hoping for a repeat of the train incident a thousand times or more. She wondered, now, how she would feel if she saw him. "Come," she said, her voice overcompensating as she tried not to let it show that her mind was on things other than work.

Benton stepped slowly into her office. Though the temperature was comfortable for his taste, he noticed she had opened a window and aimed a fan to blow into the room. "Are you certain you want me to leave these on Turnbull’s desk? He has a knack for misplacing important documents."

Thatcher nodded. "You’re right, Constable. Would you bring them here?"

Fraser obliged, handing them to her. As she dropped them to the desk, she knocked the paper cup over. Water dribbled from it as partially melted ice was tossed to the floor.   Fraser immediately sprung into action, bending to pick up the ice. Meg leaned back and watched the man in a position that would normally make her crazy.   Now, instead, she wished she felt Ray’s hands on her thighs.

"Thank you, Constable," she breathed wistfully. "You may go."

"Are you hot?" Fraser asked as he stood. Taking a step toward her, he reached his hand toward her forehead. "Perhaps you have a fever."

Thatcher grabbed his wrist. "No, no. I’m fine," she assured him. "When will you be finished with the budget allotment for the annual ball?" she requested, changing the subject.

"By the end of the day," Benton replied. "Is there a problem?"

"No," she replied again, only now letting his wrist free from her grasp. "I’d like to reconsider the guest list."

"Reconsider?"

"I think that, in an attempt to improve relations with the law enforcement officials in the area, we should include some of them on the guest list. What’s your opinion?" she asked.

Benton considered it a moment then nodded. "It would be a step in the right direction for gregarious relations."

Thatcher nodded. "I’ll get in touch with someone in the Chicago Police Department to assist with the list. Why don’t you provide me with the current list? I’ll handle the invitations and you can cover the catering. Would that be acceptable?"

"Certainly, Sir," Benton replied.   "Do you have the initial information on the catering?"

"Turnbull has them. He should return from lunch within 15 minutes.   Thank you, Constable," she added.

~~~~

Once Thatcher had the appropriate information on her desk, she stared at it. She didn’t want to admit to anyone, especially herself, that she had used this all as an excuse. Placing a hand on the phone, she froze. 'Should I really go through with this?' Her mind flashed back to that morning, laying on the desk, pure passion like she’d never felt running through her.

She lifted the receiver and dialed. "Detective Vecchio, please," she requested.

A pause quickly gave way to his voice. "Vecchio."

"Detective," she said smoothly, but couldn’t find the next words.

"Yeah? Who is this?"

She cleared her throat. "This is Inspector Thatcher."

'Meg?' His mind raced. "What is this all about?"

"We’re having an affair," she choked at her choice of words. "I mean, the Consulate is sponsoring a ball. In a show of appreciation for their hospitality, we’d like to invite some of Chicago’s law enforcement officers and I was hoping you might be able to help me make up a guest list."

Ray smiled. This moment was priceless. Should he make her beg? "Guest list?"

"Yes. Being an officer, you’d know better who we should invite for a most beneficial evening for both sides."

"I see," Ray said, a grin still plastered on his face. "I suppose I could squeeze it into my schedule. I’ve got a lot of work today, but perhaps we could meet this evening?"

Thatcher swallowed. She tried to stop herself, but her words spilled out. "I’d like to go home early today. Perhaps we could meet at my place to discuss the invitations."

As much as Ray wanted to laugh out loud, he couldn’t. He agreed and got her address.

Meg hung up the phone and leaned back, closing her eyes. 'What have I done? There’s only one way out now. I’ll just make sure we stick to the matter at hand. I’ve made the commitment to invite them now, I’ll simply insist Ray concentrate on that.'

She let out a deep breath, hoping she could make it work.

~~~~~

Ray knocked lightly on the door.   When greeted by the Inspector, he found her even more lovely now that she had removed her shoes and stockings as well as her jacket. Left in a thin sage-coloured blouse and deep green skirt, he found her flesh more appealing.

"Let’s get started," she said.

Ray nodded and reached for her.   Thatcher stepped back. "I meant with the guest list. I’m not sure what inspired me to let you into my home, but now that you’re here, you’ll respect me and just take care of the business at hand." She handed him a piece of paper. "You can begin by writing the names of the important figures in politics."

Frowning, Ray stepped inside and followed her to the main room where she offered him a seat either on the sofa or in an easy chair. Ray opted for the easy chair and set the piece of paper on her coffee table. "Have you eaten?"

Thatcher shook her head and sat on the sofa.

"How about I take you to dinner?"

Meg shifted. "I don’t think so, Detective," she said formally. "We have a job to do. Start writing."

Ray shrugged. "I don’t feel like writing. You write while I talk."

Meg sighed, but agreed taking the paper and moving it in front of her. Picking up a pen, she leaned over the table.

Ray’s eyes moved directly to her blouse, catching a peek at her cleavage. He smiled slightly. "I’m not exactly sure what it is you want," he said.

"Just a list of important political figures in Chicago, a few important law enforcement officials, the like."

"Ah," Ray said and began to think.   Naming a few, he stated their positions and asked if that was what she meant. She nodded and he watched her every move.

After several minutes, she rubbed at her stomach.

"Are you sure you’re not hungry?" he asked.

"I didn’t say I wasn’t hungry, I only said I hadn’t eaten and that we weren’t going out." She paused. "Did you eat?"

Ray shook his head. Standing, she moved to the kitchen. He heard her bang around in the cupboards.   "I’ve been too busy," she stated.

Ray stood and moved to the entrance of the kitchen. "What do you mean?"

"I don’t have anything to eat."

"We could order pizza."

Meg frowned. She pulled out a jar of peanut butter. "I could make sandwiches."

"Great. Just like high school," he chuckled. "Want help?"

Thatcher shook her head. "Jam or honey?"

"Those are my choices?" he asked. She nodded. "Jam," he replied, then went back to the easy chair and leaned his head back. It had been a very long day. Closing his eyes, he listened to her fussing with the bread and the peanut butter. Finally she came out with the sandwiches and handed one to him.

The strawberry jam accented the peanut butter nicely, but there was too much for his taste. He had to eat carefully. Glancing at Meg, he saw her enjoy her sandwich and not notice the drop of strawberry that had fallen on her chin and was now working it’s way to her chest.

Ray chewed the last bite and watched her delicately nibbling, another drop hitting the skin just above her blouse. Unable to resist, Ray moved to the couch. Meg regarded him uneasily.

He took her sandwich, placed it on the coffee table, and stared at her chin. "You dripped," he said. Meg reached for her chin and Ray grabbed her hand, simultaneously moving close and sucking the sweet syrup of the jam from her chin. Meg froze. His gentle tongue cleaned her skin, then went to her lips, parting them.

Ray leaned her back against the arm of the couch. She couldn’t make herself stop him. His tongue licked at her chin again, then moved down her neck to the spot on her chest. Grabbing his shoulders, she pushed him back.   "We can’t. I can’t do this again."

"Why not?" Ray asked.

She couldn’t think of a reason and so he continued, now opening her blouse and removing it from her shoulders. Kissing each part of her flesh as he released it from her blouse, she felt his warm body against hers. "No," she said softly.

Ray undid her bra. "No?" he said gently, pausing.

"It has to stop, Ray."

"What has to stop?" he continued with the bra, quickly nibbling a nipple.

Meg let out a breath. "These feelings," she replied finally, then succumbed to them as he undid her skirt and pulled it, with her panties, down her legs.

Feeling heat, he removed his shirt, but when he stopped there, Meg began to watch with curiosity. He licked and kissed his way down her body, then moved between her legs. Wrapping his arms around her, he shifted his hands under her buttocks and began to massage.   He licked her inner thigh and began to move upward, inward. She felt the tongue dart inside her time and time again; the heat rose in her flesh and she couldn’t catch her breath.

Her heartbeat increased as his tongue found her clit and he began a tongue massage of the area. Gasping, Meg jerked and she let out a loud moan. With no one there to hear her this time, she let a groan escape as well.

Ray continued to work the area with his tongue, finally bringing a hand to her inner thigh and gingerly touching it. Just as he felt her begin to reach the final moments, he thrust his fingers as deeply inside her as he could, still not stopping with his tongue.

Meg jerked in agonizing ecstasy, a loud moan escaping and ringing through the place. Grabbing at the back and sides of the couch, she tried to stabilize, but the muscles were strong and she could only jerk and toss, letting out moans along the way.

Finally, the contracting slowed and ceased, at which point Ray finally removed his fingers and moved his tongue to her inner thigh before kissing his way back to her breast. Meg weakly placed a hand over his head and ran her fingers through his hair.

He kissed her breast for several seconds before moving on top of her, rolling her to her side, and holding her close. She couldn’t have spoken, even if she’d found the words. Now, with him laying beside her, holding her close, she felt comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

"You make me crazy," Ray finally said, breaking the silence.

"And you make me insane," she replied. Neither of them took the time to explain the double meaning in their words. They both knew every sensation was based on passion, not love. They hated to talk to each other, but they certainly knew how to fuck.

~~~~~

Inspector Thatcher had arrived early at the hotel. Checking the ballroom for all the last minute details, she looked beautiful in a blue slip dress. The shimmering silk made every move wave like a body of water.

Not intending to be early, Ray stepped into the ballroom. An expensive tuxedo graced his figure, but Ray was still frustrated at the price of the rental. He saw that no one was around except the staff preparing. He looked at his watch, then took the invitation from his pocket.   Only now did he realize he had read it wrong. He had nearly a half an hour.

Turning to leave, he spotted Meg across the room. He waited until she looked up, then he waved to her, a grin across his face.

Meg nodded her acknowledgement and continued to check the settings. Once satisfied that everything was in place, she moved toward him.

"You look gorgeous," he said softly as she neared.

"That’s a nice tuxedo."

Ray modeled it. "Didn’t expect me to have one so nice?"

"Uh, well…"

"Thank God for rentals."

Meg rolled her eyes. "You’re so vulgar."

"I’d hardly call that vulgar," Ray replied, then grabbed her and licked her jaw. "That’s what I’d call vulgar."

Meg pushed him away and clicked her tongue. "This evening has to be perfect," she stated. "I don’t want you to be a distraction."

"All right, all right," Ray agreed. "Still, we’ve got at least thirty minutes before anyone important arrives."

"Ray, it’s over."

Ray smiled at the challenge. "Maybe," he replied. "Anything I can do to help?"

Meg shook her head. "Thank you, though," she found herself saying. "You can have a seat," she offered, then went back to hovering over the staff.

Ray watched the woman in action.   Her mind was always on the subject at hand. No matter what, she committed herself wholly to the moment. Ray was beginning to find more things about her he found sexy. He caught her nibbling a shrimp puff and smiled.

Out of boredom, he finally stood and began to wander. Scoping the place, he found a quiet room, then walked back toward the ballroom. Stepping into the hall, he glimpsed Meg snacking on another shrimp puff. A grin coming to his face, he stepped back into the ballroom and made his way around the prepared table. Taking all the shrimp puffs he could hold in one hand without squishing them, he sneaked out into the hall and began to look for his victim.

Finally catching Meg’s eye, he tucked the puffs behind him. "Meg?" he said, then quickly added, "Inspector Thatcher."

"Yes, Ray?" she asked, looking exhausted.

"I think you need a break."

She let out a breath. "I can’t. There is a lot to do."

Ray grinned. "Well, it seems there’s a problem," he said, running his free hand through his hair.

She looked horrified. "What?!"

"It seems they’ve made a mistake.   They’re setting up half the banquet in the adjoining room."

"What?! Where?"

Ray pointed down the hall past the ballroom. "There."

Meg scurried down the hall, Ray close on her heels. As soon as they were inside, he closed the door. Meg turned. "There’s nothing here."

A smile grew on Ray’s face and he held out the shrimp puffs. "I saw you snacking."

Meg chuckled and reached for one.   Ray pulled his hand away. "Not so fast."

Suddenly realizing what he must have been thinking, she froze. "No."

"What’s the matter?"

"I’m not a performance artist," she said quickly.

Ray snapped the lock. "No one to perform for in here. We’re alone," he said in a soft whisper, moving toward her.

"No," she repeated. "I can’t. There’s so much to do."

"The caterers have everything under control, Meg. Just a few moments to relax. That’s all you need." He took a shrimp puff and held it out to her. She tried to take it and he shook his head. "Come closer," he said softly.

Meg took one step and he held the shrimp puff at her mouth. Reluctant only a moment, Meg took it in her mouth. It was bigger than she anticipated and she covered her mouth to chew. She swallowed and smiled. "Ok, enough is enough."

Ray set the puffs on the podium of the conference room and removed his tuxedo jacket. Meg shook her head. "No. I’m not doing this."

"If you can look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to do this, I’ll stop."

Meg tried to look him in the eye, but found she couldn’t. Ray continued to remove his tuxedo, cummerbund, shirt, slowly unbuttoning the pants. He watched Meg watching his hands. Once he was left in nothing but his shorts, he took her in his arms and began to help her slip out of her dress.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," she said breathlessly as he took off her slip and began working his hands over her skin. Once they were both naked, he took the leftover shrimp puffs and moved to the floor. He laid one on his chest and smiled.

Meg took in a deep breath. She ate the puff from his chest as she knew he wanted. He placed the next on his abdomen. Shaking her head at her own disbelief, she took that shrimp puff as well. Placing the last puff just above his penis, Meg looked at it, then at him, then back at the shrimp puff. Running her fingers through her hair, she leaned over him, moved the shrimp puff to the floor, and placed her lips over the soft flesh. Rubbing with lip and tongue, she felt him begin to grow in her mouth. Gently placing her fingers under his ball sack, she massaged the area.

Ray closed his eyes and moaned quietly, continuing to grow and harden as she mouthed him. Soon he was tight and he felt the ecstasy nearing. Looking down at Meg, she sat up and smiled.   Throwing a leg over him, she straddled, letting his cock inside her. Both bodies moved as one, shifting and moaning. She could feel his hardened member beating deep into her. He lifted his upper back to partially sit up and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Holding her ass with one hand, he braced himself behind with the other, pushing harder and harder into her, feeling her warmth surrounding him as she groaned gently.

Moaning gently, he imagined himself shoving deeper and deeper as the sensation of his tight penis pushed its way further. Thrusting over and over, they each gasped simultaneously, then moaned back and forth until finally he could hold it no longer. At the exact moment his orgasm peaked and the liquid rushed from him, he heard her grunt and groan as her muscles began their orgasmic contractions. They couldn’t help themselves as they moaned in passion and delight. They thrust their groins together a few more times before falling back.

Meg lay beside Ray and touched his chest. He looked into her eyes and smiled. She returned the smile, then realized where she was. "I have to get back," she said quickly.

"I know," Ray said, watching as she rose to her feet and hurried to dress. He followed her lead, but took longer than she. Alone in the conference hall, he looked at the shrimp puff on the floor. Grinning, he pulled on his jacket and left the room.

~~~~

Sitting at a table, Ray stared at the place card marked with his name. He recognized Fraser’s handwriting. Looking intently at it, he frowned. How would Fraser feel about all this? It was obvious Fraser had some feelings for Meg. Ray knew in his mind that she had feelings for him. What was he doing coming between any possible involvement or lack thereof? They were both his friends. "Well, at least Fraser is," he said aloud.

"I’m what?" Fraser asked from behind, causing Ray to spin.

"Nothing. I was just thinking out loud," Ray replied quickly. Noticing the box in Fraser’s hand, he furrowed his brow. "What’s that?"

"Flowers. The inspector made no mention, but I assumed she would want flowers to signify important guests."

"Oh," Ray replied. He looked for Meg and found her at the front of the room reading the place cards. She looked up to see Fraser and Ray beside each other. Flustered, she went back to the place cards only to hear her name. "Thatcher!" Ray hollered.

Meg looked up and Ray waved her over. She moved across the room reluctantly, but with a gracious smile. "Yes?"

"Fraze’s got something for you," Ray informed him.

Fraser set the box down and pulled out a single corsage. "I took the liberty of ordering flowers for the high profile guests." He held one out to her. "Would you like me to pin it on?"

Meg blushed. "That is very sweet, Constable, and a wonderful idea."

Fraser smiled slightly and began to pin. Meg looked into his eyes, the sweet ones she loved. Perhaps he’d shown very few displays of passion, but she respected him and he respected her. He cared for her and she for him. She glanced at Ray. He smiled, letting her know he understood.

Standing, he ran a hand over his hair. "Suddenly I’m not feeling well," he stated to the two Mounties. "I think I’d better go."

"I’m sorry," Meg said sincerely.

Ray held up a hand. "It’s ok. Some things are meant to be." He signaled her by looking back and forth between her and Benton. "Some are not." He turned and walked away.