Secrets In Your Eyes
Secrets In Your Eyes
Chapter 3
Chapter Wordcount: 3966
Ray was crossing his fingers. He should have known that would jinx it.
It had been a pretty quiet day all things considered. No major crimes or hijinks. He had taken the opportunity to catch up on a majority of the paperwork piled on his desk. The Riv was still intact. Fraser hadn’t jumped out of any windows. Yup, good day.
He only had maybe another hour left of his shift, the sun sinking low outside and he could already taste the glass of red wine he was going to pour himself when he got home.
Benny sat across his desk from him, reading a file on one of the still open cases.
That was the moment that Tayla burst through the bullpen doors.
Tayla was not one for theatrics, so Ray instantly knew his day had just been shot to hell.
“Ray!”
Fraser shot to his feet, spinning and taking hold of her elbow when she made it to Ray’s desk.
“Tayla, are you alright?”
“Shit,” she hissed, bracing herself over his desk, gulping in air. “The National. Somebody stole the bloody National!” she yelled, raising her head to look at Ray.
The color drained from his face. That car had been a present from her father when they had still been in school. It had a blown motor at the time and had been worse for wear. She had rebuilt it from the ground up with her old man.
His eyes shot to Benny who was already placing his Stetson on his head, both of them instantly determined to not go home until they found the beloved car.
“Was it at the shop last?”
She shook her head, leaning into Fraser’s warmth where he still held her arm. “Kingston Mines, me and a couple of the guys from the shop… they’re out driving around, looking for it.”
Ray nodded, already shrugging on his coat and holstering his gun.
“Diefenbaker and I will meet you there Ray,” Fraser nodded, squeezing Tayla’s arm in reassurance before quickly making his way to the door, both he and Dief in tracking mode and headed in the direction of the blues club where it had last been seen.
Tayla watched him go and turned back to Ray.
“If there’s anyone on this planet that can find it, it’s the crazy Mountie that just lit out of here,” he said, ushering her towards the parking lot and the Riviera. “C’mon… we’ll find it Tay.”
***
It was well after dark when Fraser used a payphone to call Ray’s cell.
“Told you,” Ray grinned, snapping his phone closed and throwing the Riviera’s weight into a u-turn in the middle of traffic. “Benny’s got it,” he smiled, looking over at Tayla who visibly deflated in the passenger seat, worry melting off her shoulders.
They pulled up a few minutes later and Tayla all but ran down the alleyway where it had been left. Its passenger side had been scraped along what must have been 100 feet of the brick wall and the two wheels on the driver’s side that had still been accessible had been stripped, the black body leaning down and resting heavy on bare brake rotors.
“Shit,” Ray hissed, watching Tayla collapse in front of the damaged car.
“I’m sorry Ray,” Fraser said quietly, walking up to him. “I felt it might be better if she were relieved to know it had been found, without knowing the extent of the damage. I feared even with your tutelage I was not qualified to fully assess the severity had she wanted details.”
“It’s alright Benny,” Ray sighed, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s mostly in once piece, trust me, she’s more than happy you found it at all.”
They both looked over at her, she was on her knees on the broken pavement, head bent and resting on the edge of the bumper. Diefenbaker sat quietly next to her, his paw placed on her thigh.
“Guess I’ll call for a wrecker,” Ray said sadly, he had hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He met Fraser’s gaze before pulling out his cell phone and walking towards the mouth of the alley, where the backup and evidence teams he had radioed for were pulling up.
Fraser made his way quietly over to where Tayla sat. Diefenbaker moved away to let Fraser take his place.
He sat next to her in silent support. Ray came over a few minutes later, crouching down beside both of them and squeezing Tayla’s shoulder.
“Hey hun, I called a wrecker for you. We’ll get this baby back home tonight. I already told the evidence crew they can examine it at the shop tomorrow.”
Tayla smiled tiredly at him, “Thanks Ray,” she breathed, knowing under normal circumstances it would be headed for a police impound lot until the investigation was done.
Someone called for Ray from down the alley. Unfortunately there was going to be plenty of paperwork and statements and overseeing the clearing of the scene before Ray would ever be able to get to that wine he had been daydreaming of hours ago. But honestly he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Tayla was more important.
“I’ll stay with her Ray,” Fraser offered. “Make sure they make it home okay,” he promised, affectionately including the wounded car in his statement.
Ray nodded his thanks at his partner and kissed Tayla on the forehead before returning to his unfortunate work.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she asked quietly after Ray had retreated down the alley.
His eyebrows scrunched down and when he didn’t answer she glanced over at him from under her arm where she had it propped on the hood.
“Not in the least,” he answered, still trying to figure out why she would say such a thing.
“Getting all emotional over a car,” she added, dropping her head again.
He smiled softly and shifted where he sat. “Not at all Tay,” he said softly, using the nickname that Ray used on a more frequent basis than he did himself. “I still own my father’s cabin in Canada,” he offered, deciding that was probably the most similar instance in his own life to the current situation. “Or, well, what’s left of it.”
Tayla shifted, pulling herself from the front of the car and turning sideways to face him, crossing her legs underneath herself.
“It was burned down a little over a year ago,” he continued, heart seizing in his chest at the memories of everything attached to that statement.
Tayla far from knew as many details and secrets about Fraser as Ray did. But she had been around him enough, become familiar enough, that she could tell there was a whole lot more to that simple comment than he was offering. That he was masking whatever was going on inside him because he was focused on comforting her in that moment.
He took a deep breath and added to his story. “I haven’t been up there since before it even happened. Since I moved to Chicago actually. I surmise it’s more akin to vacant land at this point. But…it’s my father’s cabin, the idea of selling it has never crossed my mind,” he said simply, knowing that was nowhere near an adequate statement but that she would understand nevertheless.
Tayla smiled at him and shifted again, leaning back against the bumper and sideways into his shoulder. Diefenbaker returned and curled up next to her leg, resting his head on her thigh and they waited together until the tow truck arrived.
***
Tayla had shut her eyes and relaxed against the warmth of Fraser’s side, although he had no question that she was still awake. Her breathing had remained shallow and her hand still moved slowly through the ruff of Dief’s neck where he laid next to her.
To be quite honest he had become rather relaxed himself. With the obvious exception of Ray, there hadn’t been many people in his recent past that he had become comfortable letting into his personal space so easily. One in particular still sent a spike of ice down his spine if he let his thoughts settle too long. It was rather comforting to have that level of familiarity with someone, someone he felt he could trust on the same level as Ray. He was grateful that she had come into his life, come back into Ray’s, and became a friend.
He heard the distinct chattering of a diesel engine only a few moments before the first strobes of golden light began reflecting against the walls of the alley as the tow truck neared their location.
He shifted his shoulder just enough to give Tayla a signal and she eased herself upright. Fraser made his way to his feet and held out his hand to assist her in standing. By that time the truck had begun reversing its way between the buildings, headed towards the crippled Buick.
Tayla sighed heavily and Fraser squeezed her arm in comfort as the truck’s operator descended from the cab.
He took down Tayla’s information before walking around the car to determine his best course of action in retrieving it while causing as little additional damage as possible.
“Tayla,” Fraser said quietly, taking her elbow once more, guiding her a little further away. The second the driver had started unrolling the chains her muscles had started to tighten increasingly with each rattle. “C’mere,” he coaxed, pulling her once again into his side, only slightly startled when she curled into him and hid her face against the wool of his uniform. He was glad he seemed to be able to comfort her though when the driver finally started operating the hydraulic winch and he instantly understood why she had become progressively more tense from the moment the flatbed had arrived.
The sound of the car being moved was horrific. First the screech of sheet metal as it was pulled away from the rough brick wall and then the harsh grind as the bare rotors on the driver’s side, that were not meant to bear the weight of the car nor move against asphalt, were drug across the pavement and onto the metal platform of the truck. Fraser winced himself, both from the sheer unpleasantness of the sound as well as what he knew it to mean. He wrapped his arm a little tighter around her and held her silently until the operator had finally secured the vehicle, finished his paperwork and nodded to him that he was ready to leave when they were.
He led her to the cab, opening the door and offering her his hand to help her climb inside. He followed behind her, finally calling Diefenbaker up to sit on the floorboard at his feet before shutting the door. It was a tight fit, three humans and a wolf in the cab of a tow truck, but judging by the way she continued to lean into his side, he assumed she didn’t mind.
She was shaking ever so slightly and he knew the stress of the night must have been catching up to her. He had no intention of bringing attention to it however, pretending instead, that he was oblivious and that trembling he felt was only from the truck itself.
He looked out the window at one point and was caught off guard by the punch in the gut he received when he saw the black car in the side mirror. As they passed under the street lights the car’s headlight would catch the glow and shine like an eye, only for the murky yellow to wash across the body and show the ugly damage that traveled down its side.
He was blindsided by the thought that it reminded him of Diefenbaker in a cage. He could vividly remember his companion being confined and how utterly wrong it made him feel to see a wild animal fettered in such a way. Injured and trapped and kept from everything that made him what he was.
It surprised him to draw that parallel, it wasn’t one he would have expected, but it made a sort of sense. The car was meant to be driven, the engine run, the wheels to roll down the road. And here it was, wounded, shackled down and being carried in a way that was unnatural to its state of being. He suddenly understood the pull, the connection, that both his friends shared for their vehicles. He found himself relieved Tayla had ended up in the middle of the cab, unable to see the somber sight in the mirror.
***
He had wondered if he should suggest Tayla wait inside the shop’s office while the car was unloaded, but her whole demeanor changed once they were on familiar ground. Where she felt safe and knew she had the tools and resources to fix what had been damaged.
She opened the garage’s roll up door so the driver could unload the Buick inside and went to work. She returned from inside with a floor jack and a set of wheel dollies to help ease the difficulty of moving the tire-less side of the car.
Once the car was in the safety of the shop and the wrecker driver had departed, Fraser could see her shoulders droop again, whatever adrenaline and will she had drawn upon to do what needed to be done had been drained.
He had taken the opportunity while the National was being unloaded to call Ray from the office’s phone. He had assured him he would see Tayla home safely and Ray said he was just about finished for the night and would meet them at her house, give Fraser a ride home.
Tayla had pulled her father’s old Power Wagon out of the shop, the military style truck would need to be her transportation for the foreseeable future. Fraser helped her lock up, ensuring everything was secure before they drove the truck back to her home.
***
She offered to make him coffee or tea while they waited for Ray. He gently told her that was not necessary and that she should just rest now that she was home.
He hung his hat on the coat rack in her entryway and followed her into the kitchen where she was leaning against the counter, visibly dead on her feet.
“Tayla… why don’t you sit down.”
She lifted her eyes to him and gave him a small smile. She pushed herself away from the counter and walked over to him, planting her face in the middle of his chest.
He stumbled in surprise, one foot taking a small step back for balance and his arm hovered above her shoulders before he placed it there softly.
“Thank you,” she whispered against him, he felt the words more than he heard them.
“There’s no need…” he started.
She looked up at him again and he fell silent at the intensity in her eyes.
“Thank you Benton,” she said again, voice soft and low, holding his gaze, willing him to understand the weight of her gratitude. Thanking him for his determination to find the Buick and the fact that he had. Thanking him for being at her side for the better part of the night. Thanking him for letting her collapse into his personal space over and over again, taking comfort in his solidarity.
He cleared his throat, licked his lip in a nervous tick.
“It’s really nothing,” he said softly, voice rougher than he meant it to be. “Honestly. I’m just happy I was able to find it… to be there for you,” he added finally.
She sighed and he could feel her fingers curl around a handful of red fabric near his side before she rested her weight against him again. He wrapped his arms around her a little more firmly, wordlessly telling her that it was alright to relax, that he would support her.
***
He had just finished giving Diefenbaker his second helping of dinner, which was nothing more than the remaining spaghetti that he had been too full to finish himself, when he heard the knock on the door.
Placing the plate in the sink he wiped his hands on his jeans and walked over, freezing in surprise when he opened it to reveal Tayla on the other side.
“Tayla…” he blinked. “Is everything alright?” he questioned, concerned.
She laughed lightly and he realized she had been smiling the entire time, so nothing too disastrous could be going on.
“Everything’s fine,” she grinned.
Diefenbaker barked behind him and he flinched, “Yes, yes of course, he’s right, please come in,” he rambled, moving out of the way to allow her to enter.
She side-stepped him awkwardly and he noticed she was holding one hand behind her back and making an effort to keep whatever it was hidden from him.
He cocked his head in confusion.
“What…”
“I need you to wait in the kitchen,” she cut him off.
He opened his mouth, unsure of how to reply.
“I… alright,” he said slowly, puzzled.
Dief trotted around behind her, spying on whatever she held and moved to stand to her side, looking up at her. Tayla giggled and put her finger to her mouth to hush the wolf, who wagged his tail before sitting down and looking at Fraser.
“Okay, alright,” he relented. Still perplexed but beginning to grin despite himself and walked back around the corner.
Tayla and Diefenbaker disappeared into the living quarters of his small apartment and he heard the opening of a cardboard box. Something plastic being placed on his dresser, something else being shifted aside.
Dief’s head appeared around the corner, glaring at him.
“I am not trying to cheat! I am merely listening to my surroundings!”
Dief growled.
Tayla scratched her fingers across Diefenbaker’s head as she came around the corner.
“Alright, I need you to close your eyes,” she grinned.
“Should I be concerned?”
She laughed again and took his hands in hers, holding them out in front of him to lead him.
“Do you trust me?” she chuckled.
He of course trusted her, more than most people if he was being honest with himself. So despite a curl of apprehension in his stomach, he closed his eyes with a dramatic sigh and let her lead him into his own bedroom.
“Stay here,” she said, placing her hand on his chest for a moment, the sudden spot of warmth coming as a surprise before she moved away from him.
He heard the snap of the light switch on the wall being turned off before the click of some other control that was foreign to him.
“Okay,” she said quietly, once again standing near him. The feeling in his gut swirled, tightened, at the hesitation and hint of worry he heard in her tone.
He opened his eyes to find his room in darkness, but not wholly without light.
The click he hadn’t been able to identify must have been a power switch on the small black globe he could see sitting on his dresser. A black globe that was riddled with small pinprick holes that let the bulb it contained shine through to throw an intricate pattern of spots of light all over his ceiling and walls.
Stars.
He could make out no constellations, the lamp hadn’t been made to be scientifically accurate, but it was no less breathtaking for its fault.
“Tayla…” he breathed in awe, turning in place slowly to look into every corner of his apartment. He held out his arm and let the patterns dance across his skin.
“It was supposed to be a gag gift…” she said quietly. His eyes snapped to her to see her hands laced together tightly. “We’ve joked,” she shrugged, clearly uncomfortable in the wake of his reaction compared to the confidence she had shown when she first arrived. “Stars…” she trailed off.
Stars. It was something they shared. Their sadness that the city of Chicago obscured them so. He looked back up across the expanse of his ceiling. His ceiling that she had transformed into the sky.
She had brought him the sky. She had brought him home.
He inhaled deeply before reaching out for her, forcing her to release the way she was holding her hands. He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed softly.
“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging her gently over to his small bed. He sat down first, maneuvering over to the far side, and settling back against his bedroll that substituted for a pillow, never releasing the gentle hold he had on her hand. She hesitated and he was struck by how unsure and shy she seemed to be, so used to her confidence and composure during the day. He tugged again and she placed her knee onto his thin mattress, shifting to sit next to him before slowly leaning back, coming to rest beside him on the bedroll.
He continued to hold her hand warm in his, resting them on the mattress between them.
He heard Diefenbaker settle somewhere off to the side, a quite snuffle as he made himself comfortable.
He almost could have convinced himself he was back home, had it not been for the muffled swish of traffic down below. Muted conversations through the apartment’s thin walls. The distant warble of a siren in the city.
As they laid there in silence Fraser couldn’t help but notice the way Tayla seemed to slowly relax next to him, her breathing gentled, became deeper. His thoughts wandered, casting back over the relatively short time he had known her. She had been linked to Ray in his mind from the day he met her. Literally in the sense of their shared past, common interests. But she had grown to fill her own role in his life. Perhaps not quite as deep a friendship, he had known Ray for so much longer that it would be hard to compare the two, but no less important.
Lying in his room, mesmerized by the artificial milky way splashed across his home he realized with sudden clarity how completely at ease he was with her. The insight was bolstered by the fact that she apparently felt safe around him as well.
It dawned on him that this was the first time since Victoria that he had shared his bed with anyone, let alone a woman, although obviously in vastly different scenarios. The reminder of Victoria’s betrayal sent a shiver through his heart, a hitch in his breathing, but he found he was rather relieved that other than the sharp stab of memories, he was relaxed. Peaceful. Content to lie there in shared silence, the warmth of another person, a friend, next to him.
He let his thumb sweep back and forth against the soft skin of her hand and turned his head to face her. She tilted her gaze towards him at his movement, meeting his eyes in a silent question.
“Thank you,” he said softly, hard pressed to break the stillness of the moment, continuing to stroke her hand with his thumb.
Her smile was slight, a slow shift of the tilt of her lips. Had he not been watching her he might not have even caught it. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, calm breath and opened them again, meeting his own.
He felt something tilt in that moment, shift and change in the air around them.
Her fingers tightened just the slightest bit around his own before she turned back to return her eyes to the star covered ceiling.
It frightened him, the effort it took to turn his own gaze away from the way the lights settled on the curves of her face.
Previous: Chapter Two | Next: Chapter Four
Chapter 3
Chapter Wordcount: 3966
Ray was crossing his fingers. He should have known that would jinx it.
It had been a pretty quiet day all things considered. No major crimes or hijinks. He had taken the opportunity to catch up on a majority of the paperwork piled on his desk. The Riv was still intact. Fraser hadn’t jumped out of any windows. Yup, good day.
He only had maybe another hour left of his shift, the sun sinking low outside and he could already taste the glass of red wine he was going to pour himself when he got home.
Benny sat across his desk from him, reading a file on one of the still open cases.
That was the moment that Tayla burst through the bullpen doors.
Tayla was not one for theatrics, so Ray instantly knew his day had just been shot to hell.
“Ray!”
Fraser shot to his feet, spinning and taking hold of her elbow when she made it to Ray’s desk.
“Tayla, are you alright?”
“Shit,” she hissed, bracing herself over his desk, gulping in air. “The National. Somebody stole the bloody National!” she yelled, raising her head to look at Ray.
The color drained from his face. That car had been a present from her father when they had still been in school. It had a blown motor at the time and had been worse for wear. She had rebuilt it from the ground up with her old man.
His eyes shot to Benny who was already placing his Stetson on his head, both of them instantly determined to not go home until they found the beloved car.
“Was it at the shop last?”
She shook her head, leaning into Fraser’s warmth where he still held her arm. “Kingston Mines, me and a couple of the guys from the shop… they’re out driving around, looking for it.”
Ray nodded, already shrugging on his coat and holstering his gun.
“Diefenbaker and I will meet you there Ray,” Fraser nodded, squeezing Tayla’s arm in reassurance before quickly making his way to the door, both he and Dief in tracking mode and headed in the direction of the blues club where it had last been seen.
Tayla watched him go and turned back to Ray.
“If there’s anyone on this planet that can find it, it’s the crazy Mountie that just lit out of here,” he said, ushering her towards the parking lot and the Riviera. “C’mon… we’ll find it Tay.”
***
It was well after dark when Fraser used a payphone to call Ray’s cell.
“Told you,” Ray grinned, snapping his phone closed and throwing the Riviera’s weight into a u-turn in the middle of traffic. “Benny’s got it,” he smiled, looking over at Tayla who visibly deflated in the passenger seat, worry melting off her shoulders.
They pulled up a few minutes later and Tayla all but ran down the alleyway where it had been left. Its passenger side had been scraped along what must have been 100 feet of the brick wall and the two wheels on the driver’s side that had still been accessible had been stripped, the black body leaning down and resting heavy on bare brake rotors.
“Shit,” Ray hissed, watching Tayla collapse in front of the damaged car.
“I’m sorry Ray,” Fraser said quietly, walking up to him. “I felt it might be better if she were relieved to know it had been found, without knowing the extent of the damage. I feared even with your tutelage I was not qualified to fully assess the severity had she wanted details.”
“It’s alright Benny,” Ray sighed, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s mostly in once piece, trust me, she’s more than happy you found it at all.”
They both looked over at her, she was on her knees on the broken pavement, head bent and resting on the edge of the bumper. Diefenbaker sat quietly next to her, his paw placed on her thigh.
“Guess I’ll call for a wrecker,” Ray said sadly, he had hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He met Fraser’s gaze before pulling out his cell phone and walking towards the mouth of the alley, where the backup and evidence teams he had radioed for were pulling up.
Fraser made his way quietly over to where Tayla sat. Diefenbaker moved away to let Fraser take his place.
He sat next to her in silent support. Ray came over a few minutes later, crouching down beside both of them and squeezing Tayla’s shoulder.
“Hey hun, I called a wrecker for you. We’ll get this baby back home tonight. I already told the evidence crew they can examine it at the shop tomorrow.”
Tayla smiled tiredly at him, “Thanks Ray,” she breathed, knowing under normal circumstances it would be headed for a police impound lot until the investigation was done.
Someone called for Ray from down the alley. Unfortunately there was going to be plenty of paperwork and statements and overseeing the clearing of the scene before Ray would ever be able to get to that wine he had been daydreaming of hours ago. But honestly he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Tayla was more important.
“I’ll stay with her Ray,” Fraser offered. “Make sure they make it home okay,” he promised, affectionately including the wounded car in his statement.
Ray nodded his thanks at his partner and kissed Tayla on the forehead before returning to his unfortunate work.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she asked quietly after Ray had retreated down the alley.
His eyebrows scrunched down and when he didn’t answer she glanced over at him from under her arm where she had it propped on the hood.
“Not in the least,” he answered, still trying to figure out why she would say such a thing.
“Getting all emotional over a car,” she added, dropping her head again.
He smiled softly and shifted where he sat. “Not at all Tay,” he said softly, using the nickname that Ray used on a more frequent basis than he did himself. “I still own my father’s cabin in Canada,” he offered, deciding that was probably the most similar instance in his own life to the current situation. “Or, well, what’s left of it.”
Tayla shifted, pulling herself from the front of the car and turning sideways to face him, crossing her legs underneath herself.
“It was burned down a little over a year ago,” he continued, heart seizing in his chest at the memories of everything attached to that statement.
Tayla far from knew as many details and secrets about Fraser as Ray did. But she had been around him enough, become familiar enough, that she could tell there was a whole lot more to that simple comment than he was offering. That he was masking whatever was going on inside him because he was focused on comforting her in that moment.
He took a deep breath and added to his story. “I haven’t been up there since before it even happened. Since I moved to Chicago actually. I surmise it’s more akin to vacant land at this point. But…it’s my father’s cabin, the idea of selling it has never crossed my mind,” he said simply, knowing that was nowhere near an adequate statement but that she would understand nevertheless.
Tayla smiled at him and shifted again, leaning back against the bumper and sideways into his shoulder. Diefenbaker returned and curled up next to her leg, resting his head on her thigh and they waited together until the tow truck arrived.
***
Tayla had shut her eyes and relaxed against the warmth of Fraser’s side, although he had no question that she was still awake. Her breathing had remained shallow and her hand still moved slowly through the ruff of Dief’s neck where he laid next to her.
To be quite honest he had become rather relaxed himself. With the obvious exception of Ray, there hadn’t been many people in his recent past that he had become comfortable letting into his personal space so easily. One in particular still sent a spike of ice down his spine if he let his thoughts settle too long. It was rather comforting to have that level of familiarity with someone, someone he felt he could trust on the same level as Ray. He was grateful that she had come into his life, come back into Ray’s, and became a friend.
He heard the distinct chattering of a diesel engine only a few moments before the first strobes of golden light began reflecting against the walls of the alley as the tow truck neared their location.
He shifted his shoulder just enough to give Tayla a signal and she eased herself upright. Fraser made his way to his feet and held out his hand to assist her in standing. By that time the truck had begun reversing its way between the buildings, headed towards the crippled Buick.
Tayla sighed heavily and Fraser squeezed her arm in comfort as the truck’s operator descended from the cab.
He took down Tayla’s information before walking around the car to determine his best course of action in retrieving it while causing as little additional damage as possible.
“Tayla,” Fraser said quietly, taking her elbow once more, guiding her a little further away. The second the driver had started unrolling the chains her muscles had started to tighten increasingly with each rattle. “C’mere,” he coaxed, pulling her once again into his side, only slightly startled when she curled into him and hid her face against the wool of his uniform. He was glad he seemed to be able to comfort her though when the driver finally started operating the hydraulic winch and he instantly understood why she had become progressively more tense from the moment the flatbed had arrived.
The sound of the car being moved was horrific. First the screech of sheet metal as it was pulled away from the rough brick wall and then the harsh grind as the bare rotors on the driver’s side, that were not meant to bear the weight of the car nor move against asphalt, were drug across the pavement and onto the metal platform of the truck. Fraser winced himself, both from the sheer unpleasantness of the sound as well as what he knew it to mean. He wrapped his arm a little tighter around her and held her silently until the operator had finally secured the vehicle, finished his paperwork and nodded to him that he was ready to leave when they were.
He led her to the cab, opening the door and offering her his hand to help her climb inside. He followed behind her, finally calling Diefenbaker up to sit on the floorboard at his feet before shutting the door. It was a tight fit, three humans and a wolf in the cab of a tow truck, but judging by the way she continued to lean into his side, he assumed she didn’t mind.
She was shaking ever so slightly and he knew the stress of the night must have been catching up to her. He had no intention of bringing attention to it however, pretending instead, that he was oblivious and that trembling he felt was only from the truck itself.
He looked out the window at one point and was caught off guard by the punch in the gut he received when he saw the black car in the side mirror. As they passed under the street lights the car’s headlight would catch the glow and shine like an eye, only for the murky yellow to wash across the body and show the ugly damage that traveled down its side.
He was blindsided by the thought that it reminded him of Diefenbaker in a cage. He could vividly remember his companion being confined and how utterly wrong it made him feel to see a wild animal fettered in such a way. Injured and trapped and kept from everything that made him what he was.
It surprised him to draw that parallel, it wasn’t one he would have expected, but it made a sort of sense. The car was meant to be driven, the engine run, the wheels to roll down the road. And here it was, wounded, shackled down and being carried in a way that was unnatural to its state of being. He suddenly understood the pull, the connection, that both his friends shared for their vehicles. He found himself relieved Tayla had ended up in the middle of the cab, unable to see the somber sight in the mirror.
***
He had wondered if he should suggest Tayla wait inside the shop’s office while the car was unloaded, but her whole demeanor changed once they were on familiar ground. Where she felt safe and knew she had the tools and resources to fix what had been damaged.
She opened the garage’s roll up door so the driver could unload the Buick inside and went to work. She returned from inside with a floor jack and a set of wheel dollies to help ease the difficulty of moving the tire-less side of the car.
Once the car was in the safety of the shop and the wrecker driver had departed, Fraser could see her shoulders droop again, whatever adrenaline and will she had drawn upon to do what needed to be done had been drained.
He had taken the opportunity while the National was being unloaded to call Ray from the office’s phone. He had assured him he would see Tayla home safely and Ray said he was just about finished for the night and would meet them at her house, give Fraser a ride home.
Tayla had pulled her father’s old Power Wagon out of the shop, the military style truck would need to be her transportation for the foreseeable future. Fraser helped her lock up, ensuring everything was secure before they drove the truck back to her home.
***
She offered to make him coffee or tea while they waited for Ray. He gently told her that was not necessary and that she should just rest now that she was home.
He hung his hat on the coat rack in her entryway and followed her into the kitchen where she was leaning against the counter, visibly dead on her feet.
“Tayla… why don’t you sit down.”
She lifted her eyes to him and gave him a small smile. She pushed herself away from the counter and walked over to him, planting her face in the middle of his chest.
He stumbled in surprise, one foot taking a small step back for balance and his arm hovered above her shoulders before he placed it there softly.
“Thank you,” she whispered against him, he felt the words more than he heard them.
“There’s no need…” he started.
She looked up at him again and he fell silent at the intensity in her eyes.
“Thank you Benton,” she said again, voice soft and low, holding his gaze, willing him to understand the weight of her gratitude. Thanking him for his determination to find the Buick and the fact that he had. Thanking him for being at her side for the better part of the night. Thanking him for letting her collapse into his personal space over and over again, taking comfort in his solidarity.
He cleared his throat, licked his lip in a nervous tick.
“It’s really nothing,” he said softly, voice rougher than he meant it to be. “Honestly. I’m just happy I was able to find it… to be there for you,” he added finally.
She sighed and he could feel her fingers curl around a handful of red fabric near his side before she rested her weight against him again. He wrapped his arms around her a little more firmly, wordlessly telling her that it was alright to relax, that he would support her.
***
He had just finished giving Diefenbaker his second helping of dinner, which was nothing more than the remaining spaghetti that he had been too full to finish himself, when he heard the knock on the door.
Placing the plate in the sink he wiped his hands on his jeans and walked over, freezing in surprise when he opened it to reveal Tayla on the other side.
“Tayla…” he blinked. “Is everything alright?” he questioned, concerned.
She laughed lightly and he realized she had been smiling the entire time, so nothing too disastrous could be going on.
“Everything’s fine,” she grinned.
Diefenbaker barked behind him and he flinched, “Yes, yes of course, he’s right, please come in,” he rambled, moving out of the way to allow her to enter.
She side-stepped him awkwardly and he noticed she was holding one hand behind her back and making an effort to keep whatever it was hidden from him.
He cocked his head in confusion.
“What…”
“I need you to wait in the kitchen,” she cut him off.
He opened his mouth, unsure of how to reply.
“I… alright,” he said slowly, puzzled.
Dief trotted around behind her, spying on whatever she held and moved to stand to her side, looking up at her. Tayla giggled and put her finger to her mouth to hush the wolf, who wagged his tail before sitting down and looking at Fraser.
“Okay, alright,” he relented. Still perplexed but beginning to grin despite himself and walked back around the corner.
Tayla and Diefenbaker disappeared into the living quarters of his small apartment and he heard the opening of a cardboard box. Something plastic being placed on his dresser, something else being shifted aside.
Dief’s head appeared around the corner, glaring at him.
“I am not trying to cheat! I am merely listening to my surroundings!”
Dief growled.
Tayla scratched her fingers across Diefenbaker’s head as she came around the corner.
“Alright, I need you to close your eyes,” she grinned.
“Should I be concerned?”
She laughed again and took his hands in hers, holding them out in front of him to lead him.
“Do you trust me?” she chuckled.
He of course trusted her, more than most people if he was being honest with himself. So despite a curl of apprehension in his stomach, he closed his eyes with a dramatic sigh and let her lead him into his own bedroom.
“Stay here,” she said, placing her hand on his chest for a moment, the sudden spot of warmth coming as a surprise before she moved away from him.
He heard the snap of the light switch on the wall being turned off before the click of some other control that was foreign to him.
“Okay,” she said quietly, once again standing near him. The feeling in his gut swirled, tightened, at the hesitation and hint of worry he heard in her tone.
He opened his eyes to find his room in darkness, but not wholly without light.
The click he hadn’t been able to identify must have been a power switch on the small black globe he could see sitting on his dresser. A black globe that was riddled with small pinprick holes that let the bulb it contained shine through to throw an intricate pattern of spots of light all over his ceiling and walls.
Stars.
He could make out no constellations, the lamp hadn’t been made to be scientifically accurate, but it was no less breathtaking for its fault.
“Tayla…” he breathed in awe, turning in place slowly to look into every corner of his apartment. He held out his arm and let the patterns dance across his skin.
“It was supposed to be a gag gift…” she said quietly. His eyes snapped to her to see her hands laced together tightly. “We’ve joked,” she shrugged, clearly uncomfortable in the wake of his reaction compared to the confidence she had shown when she first arrived. “Stars…” she trailed off.
Stars. It was something they shared. Their sadness that the city of Chicago obscured them so. He looked back up across the expanse of his ceiling. His ceiling that she had transformed into the sky.
She had brought him the sky. She had brought him home.
He inhaled deeply before reaching out for her, forcing her to release the way she was holding her hands. He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed softly.
“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging her gently over to his small bed. He sat down first, maneuvering over to the far side, and settling back against his bedroll that substituted for a pillow, never releasing the gentle hold he had on her hand. She hesitated and he was struck by how unsure and shy she seemed to be, so used to her confidence and composure during the day. He tugged again and she placed her knee onto his thin mattress, shifting to sit next to him before slowly leaning back, coming to rest beside him on the bedroll.
He continued to hold her hand warm in his, resting them on the mattress between them.
He heard Diefenbaker settle somewhere off to the side, a quite snuffle as he made himself comfortable.
He almost could have convinced himself he was back home, had it not been for the muffled swish of traffic down below. Muted conversations through the apartment’s thin walls. The distant warble of a siren in the city.
As they laid there in silence Fraser couldn’t help but notice the way Tayla seemed to slowly relax next to him, her breathing gentled, became deeper. His thoughts wandered, casting back over the relatively short time he had known her. She had been linked to Ray in his mind from the day he met her. Literally in the sense of their shared past, common interests. But she had grown to fill her own role in his life. Perhaps not quite as deep a friendship, he had known Ray for so much longer that it would be hard to compare the two, but no less important.
Lying in his room, mesmerized by the artificial milky way splashed across his home he realized with sudden clarity how completely at ease he was with her. The insight was bolstered by the fact that she apparently felt safe around him as well.
It dawned on him that this was the first time since Victoria that he had shared his bed with anyone, let alone a woman, although obviously in vastly different scenarios. The reminder of Victoria’s betrayal sent a shiver through his heart, a hitch in his breathing, but he found he was rather relieved that other than the sharp stab of memories, he was relaxed. Peaceful. Content to lie there in shared silence, the warmth of another person, a friend, next to him.
He let his thumb sweep back and forth against the soft skin of her hand and turned his head to face her. She tilted her gaze towards him at his movement, meeting his eyes in a silent question.
“Thank you,” he said softly, hard pressed to break the stillness of the moment, continuing to stroke her hand with his thumb.
Her smile was slight, a slow shift of the tilt of her lips. Had he not been watching her he might not have even caught it. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, calm breath and opened them again, meeting his own.
He felt something tilt in that moment, shift and change in the air around them.
Her fingers tightened just the slightest bit around his own before she turned back to return her eyes to the star covered ceiling.
It frightened him, the effort it took to turn his own gaze away from the way the lights settled on the curves of her face.
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