This is my second ever bit of fanfic so feedback and comments very welcome!

Fraser, Ray et al belong to Alliance.

There is no sex, no violence and no bad language in this. A couple of warnings are, however, required;

It has a sad bit.

And it's dead dead dead dead soppy...

Bringing Up Katie

by Anne

'Come here, darling, let me brush your hair,'

Katie literally dragged her feet as she walked into her bedroom. Even under normal circumstances, getting his daughter to bed early was the devil's own job, Fraser reflected. The night before her first day at school, every difficulty was multiplied, every task took even longer. However, he had a little surprise waiting for her so he wanted her tucked up in good time.

'Are you worried about tomorrow?' Fraser asked. As usual, he struggled to get the brush through her thickets of dark, coarse hair.

'Ow, Daddy!' She didn't answer his question.

'Sorry, Katie. Are you worried?'

Again a pause.

'A little bit,'

'Well, you went into St Michael's last week and you liked it, didn't you? If there's anything you don't like just tell your teacher or tell me. You know I'll be taking you to school tomorrow and I'll be waiting for you when you get out,'

I'll always be there for you if I can, he thought, always. I'm going to bring you up right if it kills me. You are my world, after all.

'Now, get into bed because I want to show you your starting school present,'

'A present? Oh, Daddy! What is it?'

'It's a book, darling,'

'Lovely, Daddy,' she replied, but the sparkle had faded from her eyes slightly.

'It's called Pookie Starts School and it's about, um, a little girl starting school,'

Perhaps something less to the point would have been more suitable, Fraser thought, but Katie seemed to enjoy the story and by the end she was settled and ready for sleep.

'Daddy?'

'Yes, Katie?'

'Why can't we have a kitten?'

'I told you,'

'I forget,'

Because Dief would eat it, a small furry snack between Milk Duds and donuts, he thought.

'Because it would hurt Diefenbaker's feelings, darling,'

'Understood, Daddy,'

His daughter's long lashes closed over her dark eyes. He dropped a kiss on her forehead, stroked her hair for a short time, then extinguished the light and closed the door.

'Where are we? Oh, yes, Fraser, C V,'

'I'm Katie Fraser and this is my Daddy. He's a Mountie,'

In general, sarcasm is lost on six-year-olds so Robin Moore, the first-grade teacher, forbore to mention that the red serge jacket, stetson and boots had already suggested Fraser's profession.

'Delighted to have you with us, Katie. And delightful to see you, too, Officer,'

'Er, Constable,' said Fraser, finding the warmth and directness of Miss Moore's smile rather disconcerting.

'Yes, Constable, your uniform fascinates the children and it's proving a welcome distraction for those who are a little nervous,'

'Oh, er, of course,' said Fraser, whose face and uniform were now a matching, and on him rather fetching, shade of scarlet.

'Perhaps sometime in the future you might come in and give the children a little talk?'

At one time this suggestion would have terrified Fraser and he was still unable to recall the question 'Do they have toilets in Canada?' without a shudder. However, four years of exposure to Katie and her playmates had toughened him up in this respect.

'I'd be honoured, Ma'am,'

Miss Moore took Katie to a desk, near the front of the room and grouped together with another three.

'Katie, this is your desk and these are the girls you'll be sitting with, Lauren, Elyse and Karen,'

'Is he really your Daddy?' said Elyse to Katie.

'Yes, he is,'

'Wow....'

As Katie plunged into conversation, Miss Moore said 'I think this would be a good time to leave, Constable,'

Fraser turned at the door to look back.

She is my world, he thought, as he watched her laughing with the other girls. And it's going to be fine. It is.

The woman standing beside Fraser at the school gate caught his eye and smiled.

'Hi, I'm Janet. My son William started here today. You have a little girl, don't you?'

'Benton Fraser, Constable, RCMP. My daughter Katie started this morning,'

'Yeah, I saw you in the classroom this morning. Is your wife too busy...?' Janet said, trying not to sound too obvious.

Fraser hadn't even noticed.

'I'm not married. I adopted Katie four years ago. She was the daughter of my best friend,'

His face had tightened as if he was in pain, and indeed the memories still hurt, even now...

It had begun, as many things do, with a knock on the door at 3 am.

'Who is it?'

'Harding Welch,'

The name, and the tone of voice in which it was spoken, told Fraser all he needed to know. He paused to collect himself and opened the door to Welch, who was standing in the hallway and swaying slightly from shock.

Fraser dragged him into the apartment and steered him to a chair by the table.

'But, but...Ray wasn't even on duty!' Fraser was hoping against hope that he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Even though he could see that there was no hope at all. 'It's their third anniversary, they were going for a meal...'

'They were on their way back. A drunken driver ran a red light, hit the Riv and slammed it into a wall,' Welch took a deep breath as he struggled for control. 'They were both killed outright,'

'Elaine too?' whispered Fraser.

'Elaine too,' Welch folded his arms on the table, placed his head on top of them, and sobbed.

The cold anguish of the funeral - the essentially hopeful words of the Requiem Mass could offer no comfort here. Two coffins lowered into the grave where they had buried Ray's mother a few months earlier, the one small mercy that she had not lived to see this.

And then, a few days later, when Fraser had gone to visit the Vecchio house and Frannie had opened the door and sobbed,

'Oh, Benton, we're going to give Katie away, we can't keep her!'

Maria was pregnant with her sixth child. Driven almost to breakdown by the bereavements, she was unable to cope with Katie as well, an especially lively two-year-old. Frannie's new husband already had three children from his previous marriage and did not want to take on someone else's. Maria and Fraser felt strongly that Katie's skin colour was also a factor in his decision.

Elaine herself had had no family who could take Katie. The Vecchio family had become convinced that the best solution was to give her up for adoption so that she could be part of a family of her own.

'But you have no idea who might take her and she'll lose touch with all of you,' Fraser could not accept their decision.

'Don't you think we know that?' was Maria's despairing response. 'What else can we do?'

'I'll take her,' It was possibly the first time that Fraser had known silence to fall on a Vecchio family gathering.

'You can't,' breathed Tony, after a while.

'Why not?'

'A million reasons. You're not married. You live in one room, in a slum. You...'

'No,' said Frannie, 'Tony, you're wrong. It's perfect. She looked at Maria, who nodded in agreement. It's just what Ray would have wanted. And Elaine. It's perfect.'

And so it had proved. A week later, Tony and Fraser hired a van and transported Katie bag and baggage to the little house that Fraser had rented. The RCMP had been very understanding. The authorities, initially concerned about the adoption of a black American child by a single white foreign male, became so convinced of the rightness of the arrangement that they were prepared to move heaven and earth to give Fraser his daughter. Of course, the fact that the authorities in question were represented by two young single women was held to be completely irrelevant. By Fraser, anyway...

He was woken from his reverie by a wall of sound which rolled across the playground as the school door opened. A flood of children emerged, from which Katie eventually detached herself. She flung herself at Fraser's legs, shouting 'Daddy, daddy!'

'Are you alright, darling?' He scooped her up in his arms. 'What did you do today?'

'We drew pictures, Daddy. Of you! Look!'

Fraser looked at the wobbly stick figures on the piece of paper she held up and knew they were the most beautiful artistic creations he had ever seen.

'It's very good, Katie. Can I keep it?'

'I drew you too,' said a small sniffly boy who was standing with Janet.

'You must be William,' Fraser bent down to examine the picture. 'It's an excellent effort,'

'Oh, poo, Daddy, it is not! Mounties don't have green stetsons or yellow jackets or pink boots!'

She's inherited Ray's diplomatic skills, Fraser thought.

'Don't say poo, darling. I think we'd better go home now. Say goodbye to Janet and William,'

He had another surprise waiting...

Katie charged into the house and was warmly welcomed by Dief. Her mind was still full of the events of the day.

'There are THREE Katies in my class,'

'That's nice, darling,' Fraser was a little distracted.

'No, it's not. I want to be the ONLY Katie in my class!'

Fraser thought for a moment. 'Would you like to use your full name at school?'

'Oh, yes!'

'Do you remember it?'

'Caterina Vecchio Fraser,'

'So you'd be Caterina instead of Katie in class,'

'OK,' He had lost her attention.'Why does Dief keep rushing to the back door?' She had noticed at last.

'Go and see,'

Outside the door sat a small cage containing a rather irritated white kitten.

'Oh, Daddy! It's wonderful!' Katie flung herself at her father's legs again.

'It's a she,'

'What shall we call her?'

'I thought maybe...Judy?'

'Oh, yes,' said Katie but then her face fell. 'What about Dief? He won't be upset, will he?'

Fraser had formally introduced Dief to the kitten earlier in the afternoon and the results had made him cautiously hopeful.

'I think he'll be OK but we must give him lots of love,'

'And donuts,'

'Those too,'

Fraser brought the cage inside, opened the door and watched as Katie and the kitten tentatively began to make friends.

I wanted a guppy and I got a book, he thought. Whatever I wanted, I got a book. I couldn't do that to her.

He gathered Katie up into a hug, sending the kitten scuttling back to the sanctuary of its cage.

I'm going to bring her up right if it kills me. She is my world, after all.

For all the people who've sent me nice e-mails recently!

Anne (atcostig@brad.ac.uk)