When the Cat's Away   

This one's just a little bit of fluff I came up with when I was missing my
dog. I hope everyone that reads it gets as much joy out of it as I did
writing it. Thanks, as always, to Amanda and Lisa.  

Any comments are welcome: tanya@klis.com 

As for disclaimers, you all know the drill. Alliance owns them, I play
with them. 

When the Cat's Away... 

By Tanya Reed 

 Meg sat in her office working quietly. Aware of Fraser down the  

hall, she refused to wear her glasses, which made things a lot	

slower. She tapped out a word on her keyboard, peered at the screen,  

and backspaced. 

 She knew that soon Fraser would be out chasing criminals with that  

detective friend of his. With Turnbull standing sentry, that meant  

she'd actually be able to see her screen for a couple of hours. It  

would be a relief. 

 Footsteps in the hall made her pause. Fraser was the only other  

person in the building. 

 "Fraser," she called. 

 It only took a moment for his handsome face to appear at the door.  

"Yes, ma'am?"' 

 "I suppose you are leaving now to commit some atrocious act of  

bravery with that American friend of yours." 

 "Ma'am?" he asked again, looking slightly puzzled. 

 "You're leaving?" 

  

"Yes, sir." 

  

She gave a short nod. "Don't forget we have to plan the Consulate's  

orphan Christmas party tonight." 

  

"No, sir." 

  

Meg then narrowed her eyes. "Is your wolf going with you, Fraser?" 

  

She saw a look almost of surprise touch his face. It lasted only  

the breath of a moment. "Diefenbaker?" 

  

"Yes, Constable. Are you deaf? I see he is not with you." 

 "He is in my office, sir. I found him to be disagreeable this	

morning, so I am leaving him behind." 

  

"He'd better not chew the furniture." 

 "No, ma'am. Dief would never..." 

  

She rolled her hand. "I'm holding you responsible for any damage he  

may cause." 

 "Understood." 

  

"Dismissed." 

  

As she watched Fraser go, a hint of a smile flitted over her lips.  

After a moment, she jumped out of her chair and rushed to the window.  

 She saw Fraser out there waiting, and bounced a couple of times in  

impatience. It didn't take long for a green Riviera to come around  

the corner and stop in front of the Consulate. As Fraser got into  

the car, Meg's slight smile turned into a grin. 

 Meg turned from the window and left her office. Softly, she started  

humming as she went down the hall. She noticed Fraser's door was  

ajar--presumably so the half wolf inside could move about the  

Consulate as he pleased. 

 He was waiting for her. When Meg stuck her head in Fraser's office,  

big wolven eyes looked up at her expectantly. 

 Conspiratorially, Meg whispered, "He's gone." *** 

 "You know, Dief," Meg said contentedly as she licked the last of the  

ice cream off of her spoon. "I am beginning to enjoy our times	

together." Then, she turned to look at the wolf and raised her dark  

eyebrows threateningly. "But if you tell Fraser, I'll tell him about  

all the sugar and salt you've been inhaling." 

  

Diefenbaker stared at her intently, then gave a little bark. 

  

"All right, all right. Have the last cheesy. I can't believe you  

ate the whole bag, you hog. You could have at least saved one for  

me. After all, I gave you some ice cream." 

  

Having to satisfy herself with licking the orange off of her  

fingers, Meg leaned back and put her feet on the desk. A backwards  

Lea's hat covered most of her shoulder length hair and her glasses  

were perched on her nose--they helped to watch TV, and she didn't  

care if Diefenbaker saw her in them. He didn't seem to care what she  

looked like as long as she had something edible in her hand. This  

thought caused her to grin as she regarded the wolf gravely watching  

the TV screen. There, an older, hairy faced man had just succeeded  

in blowing up the third thing in four minutes.	

  

Meg frowned as the credits started to roll. Had it been four shows  

already? She would have to give her aunt in Vancouver a call and ask  

her to send down some more episodes.  

  

"Well, I guess that's the last of Steve Smith's new show. Seems to  

me he hasn't changed much since Smith & Smith." 

  

With a sigh, because she had just gotten comfortable, Meg pushed out  

of her chair. At the VCR, she took out the tape and said, "So, my  

lupine friend, what do you want to do now?" 

 Diefenbaker put his head to one side and an idea came to her. 

 "How did you do that?" she asked, retrieving her video tape of the  

Leafs' game the previous Saturday. As Meg put it in the VCR, she  

commented, "You know, Turnbull's got next Wednesday off and Fraser's  

going to be doing sentry duty all day. What do you say..." 

 He made an agreeable noise in his throat and she smiled. "Good." 

 Before pressing play, Meg went to her desk and retrieved the jersey  

she always wore when watching the Leafs. It was the most comfortable  

thing she owned and her favorite piece of clothing. In fact, it was  

more friend than apparel. 

  

"Since Fraser doesn't have a TV, I bet you never get to see the  

games anymore." 

  

Dief barked in agreement as she once more rummaged in the drawer.  

This time she came out with a bag of popcorn. At her companion's  

doleful glance, she drew her brow together in a frown. 

  

"No, I was not holding out on you. I was saving this for the game.  

You can't watch hockey without popcorn." 

 He seemed to forgive her as she popped the bag and shook some	

popcorn out on the floor. 

 "Are you ready?" 

  

Dief barked again and Meg placed the bag of popcorn on the floor,  

propped against her desk. Pressing play, she reached down and  

grabbed a handful, humming the theme from Hockey Night in Canada.  

She studied the screen, trying to ignore the fact that Diefenbaker  

had come over and now had his muzzle in the bag of popcorn. She  

*had* to teach him to share. Absently, she reached down and  

scratched his ears as the game began. 

 Suddenly, the sound of a car door came through Meg's open window.  

Both she and Diefenbaker stiffened. She got up, tossing her Leafs  

cap on the desk, and looked out the window. Sure enough, Vecchio's  

green Riv was there, parked by the sidewalk and Fraser was getting  

out--prattling incessantly in that endearing way he had.  

  

"Fraser," Meg mouthed, turning, not wanting her constable to hear  

her. 

 For a moment, the two guilty parties just stared at each other.  

Then, as one, they began to move. Quickly, bags and bowls and  

glasses were shoved into a desk drawer, crumbs were lipped off of the  

floor, stop and off were pressed, a hat and jersey were discarded  

under a desk, and a large white wolf streaked out one door and in  

another.  

Shutting her door, Meg could hear Fraser coming up the stairs. She  

did one more check of the room, making sure no evidence was in sight.  

 Just as she was settling into her chair, satisfied, a knock came at  

her door. 

 Schooling her features and removing her screen saver, Meg coldly  

announced, "Come in." **** 

  

 Fraser took off his Stetson and entered Inspector Thatcher's office.  

 He noted that she was still diligently working, and it looked as if  

she hadn't moved from her seat since he left two hours before.	

Absently, he also noticed that there seemed to be a strange smell  

mingled with the scent that was uniquely hers. 

  

She looked up as he entered, annoyance in her voice. "Yes,  

Constable?" 

  

"Detective Vecchio is otherwise engaged this afternoon, sir, and I  

was wondering if you'd like to start on the plans a little early." 

  

His boss elegantly arched an eyebrow. "Otherwise engaged?" 

 "A date, ma'am." Fraser nodded, wondering how much information she  

wanted. Knowing it tended to irritate her when he gave too much, he  

kept his reply short. 

 "Oh. Well, fine then, Constable. Why don't you bring me what you  

have so far." 

  

"Yes, sir," he agreed, looking into her eyes. Concern filled him as  

he saw there was a tightness around them, the kind usually caused by  

either stress or repressed laughter. Deciding there was nothing  

humorous in the current situation, he guessed it to be the former. 

 "You are dismissed, Constable," she prodded. 

  

With a start, Fraser realized that his concern had caused him to  

look at her a little longer than he should have. He felt a faint  

blush creep to his cheeks as he looked away. Even so, he weighed  

what he had seen. He had not realized that the Inspector was under  

an unusual amount of stress and hoped that he was not the cause.  

Before he turned to go, he had decided to take more duties on  

himself. She needed to have fun and relax. After all, he had Ray  

and his crime chasing through the city to occupy his free time. What  

did she have? 

  

As Fraser left Inspector Thatcher's office and headed towards his  

own, his mind went once more to the strange scent in her office.  

Furrowing his brow, he tried to place it. Reaching his door,  

Fraser's eyes widened and he turned to regard hers for a moment.  

Popcorn and chocolate chip ice cream? 

  

Slowly, a smile lit his face. Shaking his head, he laughed at  

himself. First wildflowers, now popcorn and ice cream? What would  

he compare her smell to next? Oh, well, at least going into her  

office was always an adventure. 

THE END...at least for now. :)