Title: Observation Period
Fandom: due South
Rating: G
Length: 2168 words
Content notes: No warnings
Author notes: Part Two of my Kitchen Sink AU, but can definitely stand alone. Established K/V, going in the direction of K/V/F
Summary: Babysitting a diplomatic reception was never interesting. Until suddenly, it was.


“Why are we here again?” Kowalski grumbled as he pulled on the high collar of his dress uniform.

Vecchio stopped surveying the crowd long enough to shoot Kowalski a look of disbelief laced with irritation. “Do you never read the packets?”

“Hey!” Kowalski protested. “I was reading them until someone came out of the baths looking wet and lickable and distracting.”

“Oh yeah.” Vecchio smiled briefly at the memory, then schooled his expression to one of disapproval. “But we’ve had the information a week.”

Kowalski waved that off. Typical. “Whatever. You read it all, right? So I ask again, why are we here? And by that I mean you and me specifically.” He looked around the room and Vecchio could see the disdain on his face. “It’s been forever since we’ve had to babysit a party. It’s freaking grunt work, and we paid those dues a long time ago.”

“Did you forget about that little mishap with the Duchess a couple of months ago? The one that almost started an international incident?” Like either of them could forget – Kowalski had been freaked, worried Vecchio might really have believed his Second was cheating. Vecchio had known better, and they’d been a Pairing for too long to not know each other well, so the situation had resolved itself pretty quickly. Except for times like now, when a reminder was thrown in their faces.

Kowalski ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “She was an old friend,” he mumbled, then looked up to meet Vecchio’s eyes. “But nothing was gonna happen – we were just catching up.”

“I know that, and luckily the Duke believed it too, or we wouldn’t have gotten off as easy as this. Doesn’t change the fact that Welsh promised us he’d find a way to repay us for all the trouble.” He looked over the room. “So tonight we’re stuck watching over a welcoming party for the ambassador and his retinue. All things considered, it’s not a terrible punishment.”

“Not for you, maybe,” Kowalski complained. “You like wearing this stuff.” He shifted from foot to foot, glaring down at his dress boots.

Leaning in and lowering his voice, Vecchio told him, “I also like seeing you in them and helping you out of them, you may recall.” He grinned as Kowalski’s cheeks pinked up; it was nice to know that even after being together for years, he could still get a reaction. He winked at Kowalski just because he could, then went back to surveying the room.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kowalski do the same. Good. As much fun as this was, they really did have work to do. It would be just their luck that an assassin or spy or some crazy protester would crash the party.

“Hey,” Kowalski said a few minutes later. Vecchio turned, and Kowalski nodded his head toward a small group of people across the room. “Man by the punch bowl. About my height, dark brown hair, red sash over a suit that looks even more uncomfortable than what we have on, looking really unhappy to be here.”

Vecchio picked him out, but didn’t see anything out of place, other than the look on the man’s face. But if Kowalski said the guy didn’t want to be here, he was probably right. He was gifted at reading body language and picking up on what wasn’t being said. It made him great to work with, but sometimes it was hell on their relationship.

“What about him?”

Kowalski rolled his eyes. “Who is he? You read about everyone at this shindig, so give.”

Vecchio sighed. Someday, he’d get Kowalski to do his own homework. “His name’s Fraser. He’s pretty low on the diplomatic chain, mostly here to take notes, record the events for posterity, that kind of thing. From what info we have, it sounds like his own people aren’t quite sure what to do with him. His father was a negotiator for their King, but Fraser never got that far.”

“Huh. So he’s a Chronicler?”

Vecchio heard warning bells chime at Kowalski’s too-mild tone. They got louder when he looked over and saw the look in Kowalski’s eyes. “Oh no. You stop thinking right now.”

Kowalski gave him a too-innocent look. “What?”

“Don’t what me,” Vecchio snorted. “You think tonight is bad? What kind of punishment would we get for actually trying to lure a member of a visiting diplomatic party into bed?”

Kowalski grinned. “You said we,” he said, pointing a finger at Vecchio.

Vecchio just glared at him, annoyed at himself for the slip because yeah, the guy did look pretty amazing, and from what he’d read, seemed like a good guy as well. Smart and loyal, hard-working and detail-oriented… yeah, he pushed a lot of Vecchio’s buttons. But no way would he admit it. He kept glaring until Kowalski sighed deeply, shoulders slumping.

“Fine. But we still need to keep an eye on him.” Vecchio started to shift his gaze to look, but Kowalski stopped him, a hand on Vecchio’s arm. “Not so obvious. And I’m serious. I wasn’t just eyeing him because he’s pretty. If you’d take a minute to look past what you’ve read, you’ll see he’s been watching everything going on tonight at least as closely as we have. Way more carefully than any Scribe or Chronicler I’ve ever met.”

Vecchio flicked a glance over at Fraser. “He has positioned himself pretty well,” he had to admit.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” Kowalski nodded. “He’s got as good a view of the comings and goings tonight as we do. Better, because nobody expects him to be just watching them. He hasn’t been doing any of the normal mingling he should be doing.”

“Yeah, but even from here I can see how uncomfortable he is around all these people. And isn’t he supposed to observe everything? It’s part of his job.”

“If he hates being around people so much, he’s in the wrong line of work,” Kowalski shot back. “And he’s supposed to talk to people, otherwise everything he writes will be biased toward his viewpoint. No way would he end up working an international job if he did that.” At Vecchio’s surprised look, he shrugged and added, “My brother’s a Scribe, remember?”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“I say, meet the challenge head on,” Kowalski answered.

“Go over and talk with the man?” Vecchio shook his head, giving Kowalski a dubious look. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“I’m being serious here,” Kowalski insisted. “There’s definitely something about him, and you know me – I go with my instincts.”

“And I go by what I see and hear.” Vecchio saw movement out of the corner of his eye. “And right now, I see that we’re going to get a chance to find out more about our mystery man. He’s on his way over.”

Kowalski stood straighter, and Vecchio bit down a smile. “Behave,” he told his Second.

“I will if you will,” Kowalski said with a lightning-quick grin, and Vecchio barely restrained a groan.

They were going to find out what was worse than diplomatic babysitters for sure before this was all said and done.

********************

Fraser repressed a sigh as he took another sip of the too-sweet punch, and resisted the urge to check his pocket watch. Again. It wouldn’t matter what time it was, at any rate. He wasn’t here to socialize, he was here as part of his job.

He scanned over the crowded room, tuning out the rumble of conversation to focus on body language, watching for anything out of place.

He was so focused he nearly jumped when Dief interrupted his thoughts. Little too intense, Fraser. Might want to scale that look down a bit.

And how precisely would you know what is or is not too intense on a human face? he asked.

The mental bark of laughter he got in response was so loud he was sure anyone near him could hear it. Please. I may not be one of your kind, but I’ve been around you all my life. I know how you get. Besides, you’ve caught the attention of the guards over there.

Fraser blinked in surprise, then flicked a glance in the direction he’d Felt Dief looking. And of course, his Companion was correct; the two men were watching him, though they were doing a reasonable job of hiding it.

It is their job, you know, he pointed out.

Yes, and what they see right now is you not doing yours. Want to know what they’re saying?

I most certainly do not, Fraser told him firmly; Dief had sounded far too eager. You’re not even supposed to be here, you know.

Technically, I’m not. I’m outside, just like I’m supposed to be.

Oh, so you’re in the kennels, then?

Close enough, Dief answered, totally uncaring, and Fraser mentally rolled his eyes.

If you don’t behave like a normal dog, people will become suspicious, he said as he pretended to survey the table for something to snack on.

You’re not behaving like a Chronicler, but do you see me scolding you for it?

Isn’t that how this conversation started?

Oh, shut up, Dief grumbled, and Fraser hid a small smile behind his cup.

Have you heard anything interesting? Other than gossip about me, Fraser clarified.

Bits and pieces, but mostly confirming what we already knew. The king wants this alliance to work, but he’s planning on bargaining as shrewdly as he can the entire time.

As well he should, Fraser said. Any dissension? Anyone plotting?

Not tonight, or at least, not that I’ve found. You?

Nothing worth mentioning, Fraser told him. I’ve heard a few disparaging remarks, but nothing too vehement.

Nothing to write home about? Dief joked and Fraser couldn’t help the face he made

Doesn’t that joke ever get old?

Not yet, was Dief’s cheerful reply.

Fraser put down his empty glass and pulled a small notebook and pencil from the pocket of his waistcoat. He took a few notes, glancing around the room and finding his gaze drawn again to the two guardsmen Dief had pointed out. They were still keeping an eye on him, he knew, but it didn’t feel like they suspected him of anything. In fact, the blond one’s scrutiny felt all-too unprofessional.

Fraser searched his memory for information on them, but came up blank. He sighed, knowing he’d be teased mercilessly for what he was about to do.

Dief? The two guards. Who are they?

Hmmmm? Oh, and that was too casual.

You know who I mean, Diefenbaker. I don’t remember seeing them before.

You wouldn’t have, Dief replied. They’re too high ranking in the guard to be here.

And yet here they are, Fraser observed, taking in their appearance, and the restrained energy coming from the blond one, the amused yet resigned attitude from the other. The two men were more than just assigned partners, if Fraser was reading them correctly. They stood too close, and the look they’d shared when they saw Fraser watching them had been too intimate for mere partnership. He suddenly had the strongest desire to know more about them.

So either there’s something more going on tonight than a party, Dief theorized, or they’re being punished. If I had to guess, I’d bet on the latter. This place is too dull for any real intrigue.

Perhaps it’s meant to let our guard down.

Well, why don’t you find out? It isn’t like you aren’t allowed to talk to them.

They’re working, Fraser pointed out. They aren’t supposed to mingle.

Nice try, but your status means you can ask anybody practically anything. We both know that. He could practically see Dief cocking his head, as he asked, What is it that makes you so unwilling to talk to them?

Fraser wished he knew how to answer that. Because really, he did want to talk to them. Both of them. Wanted to drink in the blond guard’s exuberance and humor, and bask in the calm, warm gaze of the other. He’d never had such a reaction, and he found it unsettling.

It’s just… there’s something about them. Fraser frowned, frustrated he couldn’t find the right words. I know that other than our Bond I’m not Psychic, but I get the feeling that meeting them will change my life.

Would that be a bad thing? Dief wondered, surprising Fraser with the gentle tone of the question. You’ve been alone too long, Fraser.

Not everyone needs a Pack, Fraser reminded him.

Not everyone Bonds with a Wolf, either, Dief replied.

Fraser was still hesitant to move, until his Bonded sent a mental nudge almost hard enough to actually physically move him. All right, he said. If only to get you to go back to the kennels. Agreed?

Agreed, Dief replied, and Fraser started walking toward the two men, hoping he was making the right decision.