Archive of Our Own ^beta

The dogs barked madly as the sled glided to a halt. Stepping off, her boots crunching in the snow, Margaret Mackenzie crouched down and frowned at the tracks. These were not made by a caribou. She thought perhaps it was somebody from the nearby village but with the storm picking up, it would mean death to venture out towards the pass where these tracks were headed. The tracks were also meandering, deeper in places like somebody had fallen into the snow. The wind whipped the snow up around her as she peered into the dim twilight. Whoever, whatever it was, they were in trouble. 

Frowning, Maggie stood, grabbed her rifle from her sled and a pack. She tied her snowshoes onto her boots and set out to follow the tracks. Her dogs would be fine for a little while. She had time yet before the storm got too bad. 

It was a short time later that she saw a shadow moving ahead of her. Quickening, she called out, her voice ripped away by the wind. The shadow stumbled and dropped suddenly. Maggie carried on and after a few moments, came across a dark lump already half-covered by the snow. Cautious, she gripped her rifle tighter and approached slowly. “Hello?” She called out, hoping to be heard above the howling of the blizzard. The lump didn’t move. When she was close enough, she could tell it wasn’t an animal but she wasn’t trusting enough to get too close at this point. She certainly didn’t want to get ambushed. It was rare this far out but it did happen. Her mother had always taught her to be wary first. If someone was out in a blizzard unprepared, they were either there by accident, wanted to die, or were hunting. And some people didn’t just hunt caribou. 

She prodded the lump with the butt of her rifle and it moved with a groan. Crouching, Maggie brushed away the snow from the too pale face and gasped. “Goodness me, what on Earth are you doing out here?” She didn’t expect an answer but the woman’s eyes fluttered open and suddenly the lump was trying to move, frantically trying to get away from her. 

“Whoa, it’s all right.” Maggie slung the rifle over her shoulder and held out both hands. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Who…?” The woman’s eyes were dark and wild, her dark hair swirling about her in the blizzard, whipping against her face. Her lips were a dangerous shade of blue. “Where?”

“I’m Maggie, I’m a tracker. I’m on my way home. I saw your tracks. Christ, you shouldn’t be out here. The storm is going to get worse, you’ll die. If you come with me, I’ll get you someplace warm.”

“Y...you… would do that?” The woman trembled, her voice breaking in the cold. 

“Of course. How did you get here?”

“My, uh… plane… the pilot…”

Nodding in understanding, Maggie realised he must have had to crash land due to the storm. The poor woman was shivering and disoriented. She approached carefully and held out her hand. “Please, let me help you.” 

Staring at the outstretched hand with wide, uncertain eyes, the woman tentatively reached up and grasped Maggie’s hand tightly, as though expecting the offer to be withdrawn. 

Gently hauling the woman to her feet, Maggie unfastened her parker and wrapped an arm about the woman, half tucking her inside the warm coat so she was closer to her body as they began heading back to her sled. “What’s your name?” 

The woman shivered, shook her head, and gripped Maggie tightly, pressing close into the warmth of her body as they walked. Maggie was strong and held her even as she stumbled and slipped in the snow. She looked at the woman’s face. Her dark eyes were glassy and she looked like a cornered animal, afraid and unsure. Maggie smiled reassuringly. “You’re going to be all right. What’s your name?”

“Victoria.”

****

Waking up, Victoria felt dazed. She couldn’t remember falling asleep. She remembered the plane and crashing into an ice field and then walking, walking, so cold and so tired. She’d fallen and then. Her eyes flew open. 

“You’re awake, good. I’ve made some broth, it’s light and warm. It’ll help you heat up.”

The voice was calm, confident, and feminine. Victoria turned her head and gazed at her saviour. The woman looked about her age, probably younger but she had a quiet confidence about her and a warmth that shone in her eyes and smile when she looked up from whatever she was doing. Victoria realised she was wrapped in blankets and tucked into a sleeping bag, which she slowly wriggled half out of so she could sit up and accept the offered bowl. “Thank you,” she uttered hesitantly. 

“Do you remember me?” 

“Maggie, right?” At the bright smile, Victoria guessed it was right. 

“Good, I was worried you were already hypothermic but your color’s coming back.” 

“You saved me…”

Maggie gave her a puzzled look. “Of course. Anybody else would have done the same.” 

Victoria flinched as the tent they were in rippled and the storm howled outside. “Where are we?”

Frowning thoughtfully, Maggie hummed. “Just North of the 67th parallel,” she laughed.  “Um, approximately 130 kilometers from Inuvik, my home. You're in the Northwest Territory of Canada.” 

“You live up here?” 

Maggie grinned. “I was born and raised here. I found you on my return home. I've been at Fort Good Hope to submit my RCMP entrance examination, and I needed to practice some tracking skills I’ve let get a little rusty. Good thing I did too, eh?” 

Victoria nodded numbly. “Lucky me.” 

“Where were you headed?” 

Staring into the broth in the bowl, nestled between her hands, Victoria shrugged. “I don’t remember. Just… had to get away.” 

“Bad situation?” Maggie asked softly. 

Huffing a bitter laugh, Victoria sipped at her broth. “You could say that.” 

Making a sound of sympathy, Maggie shifted and sat next to Victoria, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Do you have any place to go? Anybody you can stay with?” 

Shaking her head, Victoria averted her gaze, unused to such concern for her and her wellbeing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” came the quiet sincere offer. 

“It’s a long story.”

Gesturing to the inside of the tent with a sweeping motion of her arm, Maggie’s mouth quirked into a smile. “We appear to have the time.” She paused and gazed at Victoria. “I get it though. I know what it’s like to not have many people around you to rely on. I myself only had my mother and she died last winter.”

“I’m sorry,” Victoria replied quietly. She did feel that twinge of familiar pain. Her mother wasn’t dead, at least she didn’t think she was, but she might as well have been. Nobody had ever tried to understand before. Nobody had ever asked. For the first time in her life, Victoria wanted to tell someone. Wanted somebody to know who she was. “It started when I was six years old…”

****

When they were very young, their mother left. Her sister used to cry in her bed at night but Victoria didn't. Even as she held her sister in her arms, she shed no tears. Over the past couple of years, she'd learned through her mother's example that crying just made things worse. Victoria wasn’t sad her mother had left, she was angry that she’d had to leave. Angry that they’d been left behind. Her mother had been afraid, Victoria understood that much, even at her young age of eight. She knew fear. 

After their mother left, it was all right for a time. Their father pulled himself together, stopped drinking quite so much, worked hard, and made sure they went to school. For a year or so after their mother had left, they were still a family but Victoria knew it wouldn’t last. 

She watched her father. Always made sure he couldn’t see her. She saw him sneaking a drink at breakfast and several when he came home after work. When he thought they were in bed, she would sneak down and watch him drink himself into a stupor. Then came the comments, the bitter, snide remarks about Victoria, comparing her to her sister. To her mother. 

Victoria was the oldest and everybody had always said she was just like her mother. Dark curly hair, pretty, smart, and quiet. Her mom had been beautiful too. Until her father had rearranged her face one night, during a drunken rage. 

Her mother had been afraid. Victoria understood that and also understood why her father hated her. She reminded him too much of her mother. So every chance he got, he belittled her, told her she wasn’t good enough, that her sister would always be better. At night, his eyes bloodshot as he leered at her, he uttered repeatedly that no one would ever love her but they'd want her, covet her. Just as they had her mother, and that she would be weak for it. A whore, just like her mother. As he drank more, his rants became increasingly aggressive and loud and enraged and the sisters would hide when he returned home from work. He eventually passed out and by the next morning, all was right as rain once more. 

That was fine. Victoria was ten and a smart girl. She didn’t care what her father thought, especially when he was drunk which happened increasingly often. As long as they stayed out of his way, they were all right.

The first time he raised a hand against her sister, though, was the last time he ever raised a hand against anyone. Victoria hadn’t been afraid and she’d had enough. She stared at his body on the floor, watched the pool of blood grow larger by his head. He wasn't moving. 

Her sister was wailing hysterically at the top of the stairs, in the corner, clutching her face, already darkening with an ugly bruise around her eye. Victoria calmly answered the 911 operator’s questions. "He's bleeding from the head," she explained and paused. Her eyes gazed coldly at her father's body before glancing across at her sister who wouldn't look at her, her cries dying away to stifled sobs. "He was drunk and hit my sister, so I pushed him down the stairs. Please send someone, there's a lot of blood."

****

Maggie listened intensely as Victoria told her about her parents, the violence of her father, her mother leaving. The incident that led to her and her sister being placed in foster care and her leaving school and trying to make something of herself. She didn’t tell her about the bank robberies, only that she’d been betrayed and another man had ended up dead. She had fled in fear for her life. 

It hadn’t quite gone the way she described but she hadn’t killed anybody, she had only been the driver. When Jolly had shot his partner, Victoria had been the one driving away, leaving Jolly at the mercy of the police. She had betrayed him. Maggie didn’t need to know about any of that. That had been her as Vicky, not Victoria. Jolly would never find her here. And perhaps when things had died down, she could go back and retrieve their stash from the safe location Jolly had told her about. 

“No wonder you don’t trust me,” Maggie stated when Victoria had stopped speaking. “Somebody should have been there for you.”

“We play the cards we’re dealt,” Victoria answered bitterly. “My father used to say that all the time. He used it as an excuse to treat people however he wanted.”

"That's awful." Maggie scowled. "I never knew my father. He was never around. I was very fortunate for my mother and her strength. You should have had somebody like her. Maybe things would've been different."

****

Her father survived his injuries but was no longer able to take care of them. Victoria was cleared of any wrongdoing. She was ten years old they said, she’d been protecting her sister they’d argued, he’d had a long history of abusive behaviour, they’d surmised. No charges were ever brought against her, though it was noted in her file, and when her mother couldn’t be found, she, along with her sister entered the foster system. 

For the next four years, they were bounced from family to family until one family wanted her sister to stay but had Victoria returned to child services, citing irreconcilable differences. She knew it was the note in her file that had them send her away. They were afraid of her. It didn’t make the rejection hurt any less. The lack of fight in her sister to remain by her side after all she’d done for her, however, filled her with resentment and anger. 

Bouncing from foster home to foster home for four years had been a good teacher of independence if nothing else. When she turned eighteen, she was glad to finally escape from foster care and tasted real independence for the first time.

****

"Wishing for a thing doesn't make it so," Victoria replied. 

“That decides it then.” Maggie declared resolutely.

Blinking in surprise, Victoria stared at her. “Decides what?” 

Maggie smiled when Victoria met her gaze. “You can come with me until you get back on your feet. I have a big cabin now that my mom’s gone. A spare room, it’d be no trouble.” 

Frowning, Victoria gave Maggie a look of disbelief and mistrust. “I’m nobody to you, why would you invite a stranger into your home?” 

Letting out a soft laugh, Maggie just shrugged. “Up here, nobody can afford to remain a stranger for long. It's a matter of survival.” She gave Victoria an appraising look, her icy blue eyes filled with understanding. “I can take you to the hotel in my town, it’s small but sufficient if that’d be more comfortable?” 

“I don’t have any money.” Victoria bit her bottom lip and gazed at Maggie’s open expression. If she was going to hurt her, Victoria decided she would have done it already. She’d already done more for her than anybody else in her life had, and she’d listened. She’d been kind. Victoria desperately wanted to hold onto her kindness, for a little while longer at least. “I’d like to come with you if that’s still okay?”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Maggie smiled widely. “Finish your broth. You’re going to need your strength for the rest of the trip.” 

****

Brown boots crunched the snow beneath them, and the Mountie knelt beside the track lines of a sled. He squinted up into the raging storm, a hand holding onto his Stetson, the other shielding his face, and let out a sigh. The track had gone cold. A recent sled track cut across the trail he’d been following. It was the trail of an apparent criminal who was on the run from Alaska. As the most experienced tracker, Constable Fraser had set out from Fort McPherson. A woman by the name of Vicky was the only information he had, along with a blurry photo that had been faxed up to his RCMP detachment. It had been reported that she had crossed the border in a light plane but the plane had fallen off radar. He’d found the plane a day ago but the pilot had succumbed to the elements and there had been nobody else at the crash site. Only the trail leading away from it, that he’d since been following. He’d been travelling for two days, his sled dogs protesting going much further in the blizzard that had hit by the time he’d reached the Mackenzie River. 

He’d tracked the woman across the river at Tsiigehtchic, until the end of the trail. It looked like she had been heading towards Fortitude Pass but the trail had just ended. At this point, it could have continued but fresh snow from the blizzard had destroyed the rest of it. He had no way to know for sure. There was nothing left to follow. Fraser was good but not even he could follow an invisible trail. 

Doubling back, he stopped at the sled tracks. Somebody had made camp not too long ago, perhaps a day earlier but they were long gone now. The criminal would have been unlikely to have been carrying the supplies necessary to make camp or survive in such a storm and the sled trail was heading North towards Inuvik. Chances were it was a lone traveller heading to his hometown. The trail was much more recent than the one he’d been tracking so they were unlikely to have crossed paths. Such a journey between towns up here by dog sled was not uncommon.  

Pushing to his feet, the Mountie looked back over his shoulder towards the Pass, it was shrouded in storm clouds, obscured by the swirling snow. There was nothing to be done, nobody would survive in a storm like this. He had to turn back. Once he got back to Fort McPherson he would contact the RCMP detachment in Inuvik and get them to ask who had recently travelled this way and if they had seen anyone. 

Heaving a sigh, knowing logically that the fate of the criminal was out of his hands, the constable still hesitated. It felt like a duty unfinished but it was a death sentence heading into such a fierce storm blindly. At the insistent yapping of his impatient dogs, he reluctantly stepped on the back of his sled and gave his dogs a short command to move. His sled headed back the way he had come and was soon swallowed up by the storm.

****

Maggie's cabin was warm and inviting, not unlike the woman herself, Victoria thought as they entered. She'd never stayed in such a cosy place. It felt like… Well, Victoria had no real basis for comparison but it felt like what she imagined a home would feel like. A pang of longing, old and ignored made itself known and Victoria scowled as she looked at the many photos of Maggie and her mother. 

“The spare room is all kitted out, there are blankets and towels.” Maggie came back into the living area and stopped, tilting her head at Victoria thoughtfully. “You okay?” 

Turning to face her, Victoria put on her game face and smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. I could use a hot shower.” 

Maggie let out an appreciative laugh. “You’ll be glad my mom had one built. She might’ve liked tracking out on the tundra, but she always said a good hot shower was one of the true pleasures in life.” 

“She’s not wrong,” Victoria agreed as she followed Maggie into the bathroom. “Um, thank you,” she uttered before Maggie left her alone. “For… saving my life…”

Pausing in the doorway, Maggie gave her a nonchalant shrug. “I’m sure you would have done the same had our situations been reversed. It’s sort of nice for me too... it’s been a while since I’ve had visitors since mom… so feel free to stay as long as you need to.”

Victoria didn’t reckon she would stay that long. Staying too long in one place was dangerous. Something she’d realised too late with Jolly. For now, though, a shower was needed and the rest she could decide after some rest. At least she still had her passport with her so leaving quietly wouldn’t be a problem. 

****

She met Jolly while waiting tables at the local diner. He was nice, polite but quiet. He gave her a generous tip every time he came in, and more than once she'd caught him looking at her. 

One day she overheard him talking to a buddy, sat with him, something about a job, a bank job, one that was going to make them rich. They were talking about the bank in town and it just so happened that she had worked there and knew the back door code for staff. 

She gave him her most winning smile when she brought over his coffee and slipped him a note telling him she could help with his ‘job’. Victoria knew he liked her, that he'd accept her help even if he needed a little persuading. 

After her shift was over, she saw him waiting across the street, in the shadow of a shop doorway. Smirking to herself, she walked over. 

“So you think you can help me?” He looked at her steadily, blowing out a wisp of grey smoke from his cigarette. 

“I don’t think I can.” She smiled. “I know I can.”

"What's your name?" 

"Vicky."

"You got what it takes to be a bank robber, Vicky?" Jolly leered at her.

"I got what it takes and more. Trust me."

He grabbed her arm and yanked her close, his grip hard, painful, his eyes bright and dangerous. "We'll see about that."

****

One shower and one good night’s sleep turned into another and another and twelve months later, Victoria found herself staring into the warm fire Maggie had gotten going and frowning. “What am I supposed to do up here?” 

Maggie turned away from the stove where dinner was bubbling away happily and frowned. “When?”

“When you go off to join the RCMP. They’re not going to let you stay here are they?” Victoria glanced at her over the top of her chair. “I’ve been here a year and I don’t know what I’ll do with myself once you go.” She frowned and turned back to the fire. “Didn’t plan on staying so long.”

Maggie approached and placed both hands on Victoria’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “You could go back to school. You keep saying you regret not finishing. I could help? Besides I’m not joining until the next intake which isn’t until early next year, so it’s not like I’m just going to abandon you.” 

Her breath caught at the words and Victoria closed her eyes. Maggie’s warmth seeped through her clothes and her breath tickled her ear as she pressed her cheek against hers. “You know that, right?” 

“Mm?”

“Vic, I have told you every day for the past year and I’ll keep telling you, you are welcome to stay for as long as you want.”

“You just feel sorry for me.” Victoria let out a sharper laugh than she intended and watched as Maggie rounded her chair and crouched in front of her. 

“Not now, not ever, Vic.” She paused, her piercing blue eyes pinning Victoria to the chair, stopping her words before she could say them. Nobody did fierce intensity like Maggie Mackenzie. “My home is your home.” She took hold of Victoria’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m not your mother, your sister nor any of those other people, and certainly not your father, you hear me?”

Nodding mutely, Victoria turned her hand over and held Maggie’s tightly. Then she closed the distance between them and pressed a kiss to her soft lips. It wasn’t the first time she’d done so but it was the first time she’d felt her heart beat faster. 

Maggie laughed gently when the kiss broke and peeled herself away, patting Victoria’s knee before returning to the stove. “One of these days, you’ll actually start believing me.” 

Smiling, her gaze returning to the fire once more, Victoria hummed thoughtfully and for once didn’t argue. 

****

The two years with Jolly were the most thrilling and freeing of Victoria’s life. Finally, she was appreciated, she was needed. It didn’t hurt that they were getting quite flush with the spoils of their work. She had won him over easily, seduced her way into his bed, and didn’t mind letting him think he was in charge.

Still, Victoria shouldn't have been surprised when the two years with Jolly blew up in her face, yet she screamed with rage as she sped away from that final bank, alone. Idiots. She silently fumed as she climbed into the cargo hold of the light aircraft and trained the gun on the frightened pilot. And, as the snowy tundra rushed towards them, her knuckles white as she clung on for dear life, she was filled with a cold fury that this was all it amounted to. 

She was going to die for nothing with nobody to mourn her. Didn't she deserve just a little after the pain and the hurt and rejection? Nobody had ever given her a chance. Well, she supposed, as the plane plummeted through the frigid air, that Miss Shepherd had, but Victoria had been a kid, barely twenty one! She hadn't known better. That was fucked up. It wasn't fucking fair!

One chance. Couldn't the universe have given her one real chance to turn all that pain, rage, and loneliness into something meaningful? 

****

“What’s wrong?” Victoria frowned when Maggie slammed into the cabin, her coat flung onto the sofa and her boots kicked across the room. 

“My mom lied.” 

Confused, Victoria approached Maggie cautiously and slowly sat beside her on the sofa. “About what?” she asked tentatively. 

“My birth certificate. I’ve never needed to look at it but… I always thought that my father. I mean she never explicitly told me he wasn’t, but I just assumed because they’d been married and I saw the pictures, she let me believe he was.” 

“You’re not making any sense.” 

“My father isn’t my father!” Maggie shouted, getting up to pace the cabin. 

“What?” 

“In my application for the RCMP, I listed my father and they said it didn’t match the hospital records.” 

Victoria waited. Maggie would tell her, she always told her. They’d bonded over their absentee fathers quite early on, it was one of the things that helped Victoria feel more comfortable around Maggie. She understood, not all of her pain, but much of it. The wondering, the resentment that you tried to bury deep inside. Victoria had almost thought Maggie more fortunate that her father had just never been around but to learn he wasn’t even her father had to be a painful blow. It brought back all those feelings, Maggie had worked so hard to ignore or forget.

“It wasn’t Mackenzie.” Maggie was struggling to breathe and covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob. “It was…”

“Who is it?” Victoria asked gently, getting up and wrapping her arms around her friend tightly, one hand rubbing her back. “Who did she put down on the certificate?” 

“Robert Fraser.” 

There was nothing Victoria could say. She only knew of Robert Fraser by reputation. The Frasers were well known in Inuvik, Robert, and his son, Benton. Both Mounties, both reputed for going above and beyond in their duty and across vast distances. Both were as absent from Maggie’s life as the man she’d thought to be her real father had been. 

There was nothing she could do except hold Maggie as she cried, as Maggie had done for her many times since she’d come to live in her cabin. 

****

One year turned into three and by the time Maggie had joined the RCMP, Victoria had finished school, got herself a degree, and was looking at jobs. They sat in the warm cabin together silently mulling over their options. Maggie was going to be transferred to the other side of the country, and Victoria knew she couldn’t follow. The time had come to choose another path and despite her initial resistance to get comfortable or attached, she found that it was a much more difficult decision than she’d ever anticipated. 

“So where will you go?” Maggie asked quietly, not looking at her. 

“Across the border maybe. I probably need to look at schools if I want to continue these psych studies.” 

“It’s a good choice, you’ve always been good at reading people.” Maggie smiled faintly.

The silence was heavy between them with the words they couldn’t say to each other. I love you, don’t go. Victoria had always known this day would come, though. It always did. Life carried on and whether you wanted it to or not, it carried you with it. Her friendship with Maggie wouldn’t end, they would just be apart. Yet, neither of them could say the words or acknowledge what it meant. 

“I was thinking…” Victoria started softly. “We have one more night here before your transfer…” she trailed off, not wanting to hear Maggie's reasonable rejections and resigned apologies. 

“Yeah, we do,” Maggie’s voice was hopeful and for the first time that evening she was looking at Victoria, her eyes shining with apprehension, and longing. 

“I know we agreed not to…” 

“We did…”

“But…”

“Yes,” Maggie answered quickly and put her drink down. “I’d like that very much,” she declared, getting to her feet and holding out her hand. 

Victoria knew it would make things harder in the morning but she reached out and took the offered hand anyway. Maggie's smile was shy but warm as she led Victoria into her bedroom and closed the door behind them. 

How many chances in life did a person get to be happy for a moment? Victoria collected them, treasured them, and could count her moments on one hand.

****

College, it turned out, was easy if you knew the right people to smile and flirt with and everybody underestimated a teenager. 

All but one. Miss Shepherd saw straight through Victoria’s charm and gave her no leeway. She was firm and harsh with her words, told Victoria she had potential, she was better than this. And then had failed her so she couldn’t graduate. 

Victoria could have put an end to her right then. The pencil sat on her desk, she could have just picked it up and Miss Shepherd would have stopped talking, but then her voice had softened in a way Victoria hadn't heard directed at her in a long time. Not since her mother. So she listened. “You’re a smart woman, Victoria, and I don’t think you’ve been told that enough in your life. You could do so much if you chose to. But it’s up to you.”

Staring at the professor, Victoria had expected to see contempt or scorn but only found concern and kindness. Unable to respond, unable to feel much past the churning of her stomach, Victoria had marched out of Miss Shepherd’s classroom and carried on walking right out of the college. There were easier ways to make it in the world and she didn't need to graduate anything to do them. 

She didn’t need them, she didn’t need any of them. 

****

Chicago was just as cold and unforgiving in the winter as Canada could be. It wasn’t quite as extreme as Inuvik but Victoria still shivered as she entered the warm diner. It was the end of a long disappointing day and she hoped she had enough money for a burger or something. Just a coffee would be heaven at that moment. 

There weren’t many people around. Two guys were sitting in the corner looking intently at a spread of files on their table while they absently shared a plate of fries and an older woman was sipping coffee by the window. It was quiet, just the way Victoria liked it. After three years in Inuvik, she had come to prefer fewer people in her immediate vicinity. 

Taking the table just across the aisle from the two men, she smiled up at the waitress and ordered the cheapest things on the menu. She took off her coat and rubbed her hands to get warm. The two men were discussing something quite animatedly and appeared to be arguing. Glancing subtly over at them, she realised that no, it wasn’t an argument at all. The two men were clearly friends, perhaps colleagues, and were discussing a crime of some description. 

Cops, she thought to herself absently and tried not to listen to their conversation. Although, in the quiet of the diner, it was difficult not to. 

“I’m telling you, Benny, we’re missing something here.” 

“Ray, there is no indication that the perpetrator is following a set pattern or has a plan in mind.”

“You think he’s just hitting these places at random?” 

“I couldn’t say for sure. I don’t think so, Ray. For an arsonist, there’s usually an underlying reason for his targets.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. Either this guy really hates art, or he really likes fire.”

“Well, fire has been known in many cultures to--”

“--Benny?”

“Yes, Ray?”

“Is this going to turn into a charming but witty Inuit story that makes even less sense to me and is going to take you until I die to explain because I gotta tell you if it is I might have to ship you back to Canada myself.”

“Ah. Understood.”

Victoria smiled when the balding man snickered and took a bite of his burger. 

“Can you summarise it for me, Benny?”

“Well, it’s probably not important now that I think about it, Ray.”

“Yeah, figured you just tell me these stories because you know about as much as I do, which is zip.”

“Now really, Ray, we know quite a lot--”

“--Not enough.”

The other man sighed and bowed his head as he reluctantly agreed. “No, not enough.”

“So I was right.” 

“About?”

Victoria watched the man, Ray, grin at his friend. 

“We’re missing something.”

“Yes, Ray, I believe we have to concede that fact.” 

Ray laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day.” 

“What day?”

“The day you admitted there was something you didn’t know.”

“Ray, there are many things I don’t know.” 

“Yeah yeah, Benny, I’m yanking your chain.”

Victoria watched the bald man smile with amusement and shake his head. 

“You ready to go?” he asked, gesturing at the unfinished plate of fries.

“Yes, let me just go to the restroom.” 

Victoria watched the dark-haired man walk away and leaned over. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing. You’re dealing with an arsonist?” 

The bald man narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. “What’s it to ya?” 

“It’s just, I think you need to look at his motive rather than the cases of arson themselves.” 

“What do you know about it?” 

“Well, I’ve been studying profiling for a while now and with arsonists, it’s about control or taking back control so if he’s burning art or where art is kept then he’s likely taking back control from those in control of the art world.”

Ray’s eyes widened. “So he could be an artist, and maybe somebody running one of these galleries pissed him off.”

She smiled, the man was astute. “Exactly.” 

“Great. Hey, thanks, you said you’re a profiler?” 

“Trying to be. It’s hard getting a job without experience and I’d like to work at the University.” 

“You struggling to find work?” Ray studied her intently, his green eyes sharp, curious. “Not been here long, huh?”

“About ten months, it’s been hard, yes.”

“You want to work at the university, like what a teacher?” 

“Yes,” Victoria replied warily, not expecting the questions. 

“I can help you out.”

“Oh you don’t have to I--”

Ray rolled his eyes, “I offered didn’t I? You helped me, I help you. I might know someone who works at a school. Could get you a job until you get on your feet.”

“You’d do that?”

Ray gave her a one-shoulder shrug and wiped his fingers off on a napkin before gathering up his files. “Give me your number, I’ll call you.” 

Victoria took out her pen and wrote it on the back of a clean napkin and handed it over. “I’d appreciate it.” 

“No problem, here’s my card.” Ray gave her a charming smile. “You need me, just call the 27th precinct, ask for Detective Ray Vecchio.” 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem,” Grabbing his coat, he stood as his friend returned. “Come on, Benny, Ma’s going to send out the search party if I’m not home soon.”

“Right you are, Ray.” 

Ray turned as the two men headed for the door. “Hey what’s your name?” 

“Victoria… uh, Victoria Metcalfe.” 

He flashed her a wide handsome smile again. “I’ll be in touch, Victoria, you hang in there.” 

Victoria smiled and nibbled at her fries as she heard the man’s friend, Benny, asking after her. 

“What, you don’t think beautiful women talk to me when you’re not around, Benny?”  

“Now, Ray, I never said that.”

“What did I tell you about my je ne sais quoi?” 

The Mountie and Victoria could see he was a Mountie now with that hat and tunic, clearly rolled his eyes. “That you have it and I don’t.”

“Now you’re getting it, Benny.” 

Victoria heard the door close on Ray’s laugh and watched the men stroll down the street, clearly still bickering amicably, and shook her head with bemusement. She looked down at the business card of Detective Raymond Vecchio, first grade, and smiled before tucking it into her pocket. For the first time since she’d arrived in the city, Chicago didn’t feel quite so cold and unfriendly.

****

 Walking into the police precinct was like walking into a wall of chaos. After finally getting some help from a heavily pregnant woman, she walked over to the desk where a man was bent over, writing something. “Detective Ray Vecchio?” 

The man straightened and turned and she stepped back. “Oh I’m sorry, I was told I could find him here.” 

“You can.” The blonde man narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re looking at him.” 

“Um, no.” Victoria made a face. “I’ve met Ray Vecchio and you are not him.” 

The man shifted and his scowl deepened. “Aw, shit. I don’t know what to tell you. Who are you anyway?”

“I’m the profiler you requested.” 

“Ah yeah, good. We need help on a case, uh, hang on, the file is here somewhere.” 

“But you’re not Ray Vecchio,” she repeated, looking around the station, feeling a little like she was losing her mind. 

“Ray?”

The man let out a weary sigh and immediately looked relieved when another man called out his name. “Fraser, over here.” 

Victoria recognised the Mountie and frowned when he greeted the blonde Ray with a smile and a touch to his arm as he took off his hat. 

“This is the, uh, profiler we requested,” Ray declared. “Let’s go talk over lunch, I’m starved.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Fraser turned to her and offered his hand with a friendly smile. “Constable Benton Fraser RCMP.”

“Victoria Metcalfe,” she replied, feeling somewhat dazed. The man was just as attractive as he had been when she’d first seen him, if you went for the clean-cut butter wouldn’t melt look. “You know him? You know him as Ray Vecchio?” 

Fraser’s smile froze on his face and his eyes darted to Ray who shrugged, his scowl seemingly permanently etched onto his face. “Yes, he’s my partner.” 

“Look, can we not talk about this here?” Ray bit out, shoving between them and grabbing the door, holding it open. “You can tell us where you met, uh, me and we’ll talk about the case, at lunch. You know with food? Let’s pitter-patter.”

“You’re a Mountie, in Chicago.” Victoria looked at Benton Fraser and continued incredulously, feeling like she’d walked into the Twilight zone. 

Fraser’s smile was back. “Why, yes, I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father and--”

“--Fraser,” Ray snapped. 

“That’s not important, I am attached as liaison with the Canadian consulate.”

Victoria opened her mouth and shook her head, that sounded vaguely familiar. Where had she heard that before? “I’ve heard of you.”

“Oh really?”

Ray was back at their sides, looking, if possible, spikier and even more disgruntled. “Greatness, happy reunions. Come on, let’s take it to lunch, before I die of waiting.” He ushered them both out of the double doors with a roll of his eyes and a snap of the gum he was chewing. 

Victoria noticed how Ray’s hand was firmly pressed in the centre of Fraser’s back as they exited the bullpen and had positioned himself between her and the Mountie. She dropped back a step to follow and watch them. With a smile, she couldn’t help but catalogue the many differences in behaviour and body language between the two men compared to the two men she’d briefly met over three years earlier. The closeness, the touches, similar to the first and yet so much more than the casual touches of the friendly or rather brotherly affection she'd witnessed three years ago. 

These two men had a level of intimacy between them she envied and missed, but she couldn't help wondering what had happened to the first Ray Vecchio. She hoped all would be explained over lunch because things definitely couldn’t get any weirder. Maggie would have gotten a kick out of the whole situation.

****

“So you’re Vecchio but you’re not Vecchio?” 

Ray finger-gunned at her with a smirk. “Got it in one.” 

Their explanation sort of made sense, Victoria mused. The FBI, undercover, it was classified, that was all she needed to know and they were only telling her because she’d met the real Ray Vecchio and had regaled them with the memory of him and Fraser in that very diner which the Mountie had corroborated. 

“He did tell me about you,” Fraser added cheerfully. “He was very appreciative of your advice and help on the case. It was instrumental in helping us catch and arrest Zoltan Motherwell.” 

Victoria smiled and tucked a strand of curly hair behind her ear. “I honestly thought he would take the credit, I mean, I only made a suggestion.”

Chuckling, Fraser nodded as he finished his sandwich. “He did, at first. However, when it got us a significant lead, he admitted the truth.” 

“That was nice of him.” Victoria looked at Ray who was eating quietly, his unconcerned gaze occasionally flicking between them. He'd obviously decided she was no threat to his Mountie, she mused, and so he'd relaxed considerably. It looked good on him. “So, now that we’ve established who you’re not, who are you?” 

“Ray,” he stated with a quicksilver grin. 

Fraser tsked gently and gave him a look. 

Rolling his eyes, Ray looked back at her. “Kowalski.” 

“You’re not any relation to Assistant State's Attorney Stella Kowalski are you?” Victoria asked in surprise. Ray’s shoulders instantly rose defensively and he seemed to shrink in his seat. 

“You know Stella?”

“Not well,” Victoria explained quickly, her eyes glancing to the comforting hand Fraser briefly placed over Ray’s arm. “We’ve worked on a couple of the same cases. When I met her she was going through a rough time, a divorce I think, kept complaining about a cop husband. So she’s family?” 

The huff of a laugh escaped Ray and he pouted slightly. “You could say that, I guess, once. She’s my wife, my ex-wife.”

Eyes widening, Victoria winced. “I’m so sorry.”

Ray shrugged and shot a glance at Fraser who raised an eyebrow as a quick non-verbal conversation passed between them. “I’m not,” he declared finally, meeting her gaze with a small smile that she couldn’t help returning. 

Feeling too much like she was invading their privacy, she changed the subject and pulled out a letter she’d intended to give to Ray Vecchio and held it out to Kowalski. “Would you deliver this for me, you know to Vecchio if you get to see him?” 

“What is it?” 

Sheepish, Victoria shrugged a little self consciously. “He helped me find a job and put in a good word at the university after I helped with his case. I wanted to say thanks.” 

Ray nodded and took the envelope. “Sure, I’ll make sure he gets it.” 

“Thank you.”

“Forgive me,” Fraser apologised politely, despite waiting to be sure their conversation was over. “You said you knew me earlier?”

“Oh yes, the whole trail of the killers of your father. Um, your father was Robert Fraser right?” 

Blinking in surprise, Fraser drew back in his seat a little. “Yes, how did you know?”

“I lived in Inuvik for three years, with my friend Maggie Mackenzie.”

“Ah, Mackenzie! I believe my father and her mother were friends.”

Victoria nodded, resisting the urge to scoff. “The very same. Well, when it happened, about four years ago was it? It was all anybody in town talked about. Maggie would go on and on about how brave it was to hunt them down and bring them to justice and how unfair it was the way you were treated after…” She stopped as an unreadable expression flickered over his face. “I’m sorry… I don’t mean to go on. It can’t have been easy.”

“It’s quite alright,” Fraser responded softly and gave Ray a smile when his partner nudged him gently with his elbow. “I’m alright. I’m just unused to hearing such support. It was a difficult time, yes, I felt quite alone, would have been had it not been for Ray. My father and I weren’t close, we didn’t talk much but he was my only father and if given the choice, I would do it all again.” 

Victoria gave him a sympathetic smile. “Well, not everyone in the RCMP agreed with how you were treated, Maggie has only ever spoken highly of you.” At his grateful nod, Victoria changed the subject, and for the rest of lunch, they talked about the case. 

When they’d finished, Ray climbed out of his seat, clambering literally over Fraser with astonishing ease and grace, without waiting for him to move. Victoria could tell instantly that Fraser was quite used to it. He looked up at Ray when the man grabbed his shoulder to stop Fraser from reaching across the table to retrieve his hat. 

“Keep your money in your hat, Fraser. I’ll get this.” He threw him an exasperated look when Fraser opened his mouth in obvious protest. 

Closing his mouth, Fraser canted his head hopefully at his partner. “Understood, Ray but you’ll let me get dinner?” 

Victoria could tell instantly that Ray knew it wasn’t a battle he was going to win. Ray shrugged and threw him a bemused yet fond grin. “Sure, whatever keeps you quiet, Ben.” 

Victoria smirked at the name slip and also didn’t miss the way Ray’s face flushed at the realisation before he stalked off towards the counter, all at once confident swagger and cockiness. She leaned closer to Fraser across the table. “So how long have you been together?” 

“Oh, well since Ray Vecchio, the real Ray Vecchio had to leave suddenly, there was a void at the 27th precinct and they drafted Ray, and I arrived after my vacation--”

“--No no,” Victoria laughed. “I meant, like together, together .” 

Eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, Victoria grinned as Fraser cleared his throat and rubbed his eyebrow. She’d clearly put the guy on the spot. “I mean, no judgment, I know how hard it is for cops so… you don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s um, it’s alright.” Fraser glanced over his shoulder and leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I hadn’t realised we’d been quite so obvious.” 

“Oh no, you haven’t. I mean, I’m a profiler, it’s what I do,” Victoria reassured with a smile. “To anyone else, you’d just look like buddies, but if you know what to look for or even if you’re paying attention it’s clear how comfortable you are with each other. I mean you’re always in each other’s space and touching in one way or another and that silent communication thing you’ve got going, you obviously care about each other a great deal, it’s nice to see.” She let out a wistful laugh. “I wish I had that kind of connection with someone.” 

Fraser dipped his head thoughtfully at her. “You’ve spoken very fondly of Maggie,” he replied with a smile. “When you speak of her, it is with feeling, are you sure you don’t already have that kind of connection? You did say you’d lived with her for three years.”

Ducking her head, Victoria frowned. “We’re not, I mean, I don’t think we are, we’re just. It’s hard with her being a Mountie and my job and me being here and… I haven't told her…” she trailed off weakly. 

Fraser hummed and nodded in understanding. “It was hard for me to admit my feelings to Ray too,” he declared softly. “In fact, Ray was the one who made it very clear that I had been operating under the assumption that partners and friends apparently meant something different than it did to him, in my reluctance to be honest with him.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He--” Fraser paused and smiled. “He declared loudly and with very colourful language that partners meant sharing and friends meant that there was nothing I could tell him that would have made him want to stop being my partner or my friend. And, if I would stop, in his words, thinking so damn hard I give the universe a headache, I might find something better than just friends or partners. If I took a chance, I might get what I want for a change.” he looked up and met Victoria’s gaze. “If Maggie is as close a friend as you say and if she is as fond of you as you clearly are of her, then no matter what you tell her, she’s still going to be that friend.” 

Biting her bottom lip and smiling, she nodded in understanding. It had to be nice to think so positively about others and love. Victoria figured Fraser hadn't been burned all too often by putting his heart out there and she hoped he never would. “I get what you’re saying, thank you.” 

“You’re very welcome.”

“Welcome for what?” Ray asked as he sauntered back over, tucking his wallet back into his jeans. 

“Fraser was just telling me about the time he told you how he felt about you.” 

Ray stopped, blinked at them, shrugged, and barked out a laugh as his hand came to rest on Fraser’s shoulder giving it a squeeze. “Did he tell you he’s an idiot?”

“Ray…”

Victoria laughed as Fraser turned as crimson as his uniform. “In not so many words.” 

“Yeah, that was six months ago. He still thinks I'm going to come to my senses and ship him off back to Canada."

"It's not out of the realm of possibility, Ray."

"Only when you're licking electrical sockets, Frase," Ray teased and added warmly. "As if you were ever going to lose me over that, you freak,” Ray playfully slapped his shoulder and gestured to the door. “We ready to make tracks? The Lieu will have my ass if I’m not back at my desk in ten.” 

“Yes, Ray, would you drop me off at the consulate?” 

“Sure thing, Ice Queen got you on laundry duty again?” 

“Hardly, Ray. I’ll have you know I have important documentation to complete.”

“Oh yeah, defending Canada one form at a time, in triplicate.” Ray snickered then turned to her. "Look, Victoria, you've been a great help on the case, can I call you if we need more?"

"Of course."

"Greatness, thanks. Come on, Fraser, let's go."

"After you, Ray."

Victoria walked behind them with a smile as Ray bumped into Fraser playfully and Fraser simply placed his hat on Ray’s head which seemed to appease him no end. She thought about how easy things had been with Maggie, how comfortable she’d grown, how she’d just not left her cabin and sighed. Maybe there was something to Fraser's optimism. 

Perhaps it was time to stop running. 

****

“Hey, it’s me.” Victoria twirled the phone cable between her fingers and sat back on her sofa. “How’s work?” 

She listened and hummed and sipped at her glass of wine. “Oh, it’s good. I met the Detective who asked for my help on the case and you’ll never guess who he’s partnered with.”

Waiting, she laughed into the receiver and shook her head. “No, his partner is a Mountie. Yeah, the very same, Benton Fraser. He’s here in Chicago.” Her smile fell slightly. “I know. Are you going to tell him?” 

Victoria chewed her bottom lip as she listened to Maggie and frowned slightly. “I think, I mean, I only spent today with him but I really think he’ll be okay with it. Surprised though, I don’t think he has any idea. Maybe his dad didn’t either?” 

She paused once more and nodded. “Think about it?” She smiled fondly at her response. “So, I’ve got something I need to tell you.” 

“No, no it’s nothing like that. Just stop okay!” she laughed. “It’s about what happened that night before we left, and how I feel, um-- what-- what do you mean you know?” She sat up on the sofa and frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Her expression softened and she closed her eyes. “We would have worked it out though.” Victoria let out a sigh and a warm smile spread across her face. “Alright, fresh start. I miss you too. Yeah, we can talk more face to face. I promise. You have like eighty two sick days coming or something right? So, you could come here, you could meet Benton, you could tell him?” Victoria rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Of course, I’ll be with you.”

She grinned widely, lying back on the sofa happily. “So, when are you coming South?” 

Smiling brightly up at the ceiling, Victoria turned onto her side and hugged a cushion tightly, her voice low and soft. “Great, I can’t wait to see you either.”

****