Rated PG.
Thank God for Frannie
by Helen W.
A snippet that came to me at the end of 'Pizzas and Promises'.
It was close. Too close.
Not the drowning part. See, I knew Benny would get me outa that trunk. That's what he does. Like at the meat packers. The Vecchio-as-a-human-shield bit aside, he proved last week that there's nobody better in a crisis than Benton Fraser, wonder Mountie.
I'm talking about - afterwards. 'Cause, like, maybe I hadn't been so sure Benny'd get me out after all. I'd tried not to, God I'd tried, but I'd sorta blacked out there, and, and I must've taken a breath of water right before Benny got the trunk popped, or something. Even though I think I heard him clunking, working the lock. It had just been too damn long.
So, anyway. Benny got me out of the water and onto the hood of the Riviera and did that THING - that FOCUS thing. You know, not his bumper-sticker aphorism buckle-up-for-safety's-sake thing or his Benny-the-Eskimo-storyteller thing, but his total focus thing. The thing he reserves for widows and orphans and fist fights against the Danish national hockey team. Okay, I made that last bit up.
What I'm saying is, Benny was there, holding me up, checking me out, making sure I was a-okay, and I came THIS CLOSE to totally, completely losing it. Doing an emotional scene that would have brought the house down, to quote Doc McCoy.
Then Frannie, my dear, loving sister, does HER thing - the 'oh, not my good blanket' or whatever thing, and - well, you know, there's nothing like being reminded I'm not an only child to summon forth in me my own sorta focus, if you know what I mean.
Thank God for Frannie.
*** The End ***
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