Author's website: http://www.e-fic.com/~grey/

Disclaimer:

Author's Notes: Published by AngelWings Press and can be purchased at LionHeart at http://www.lionheartdistribution.com/duesouth.htm

Story Notes:

This story is a sequel to: BYGONES Part Three

BYGONES Part Four
by Grey

Ray paced back and forth in front of the row of plastic seats of the Edmonton airport while Fraser read a local newspaper. He had a splitting headache. He hated waiting, wasting time, being stuck. Taking a deep breath, he made another circuit near the windows, shaking his head, wanting like hell to be on one of the few planes taking off. He made it back to the seat next to Fraser and sagged down, the chair too hard and too small for a full grown man, even a skinny one. "How much longer?"

Fraser folded his paper and put it in the other chair. "The flight's been delayed. There's no way to know."

"Jesus. We've been here five hours already."

"We could get something to eat."

"Not hungry."

"You didn't eat breakfast, nor did you eat the lunch offered on the plane."

"Don't start."

"I'm not starting anything, Ray, just making an observation." Ray didn't answer, just rubbed his left thigh, the ache much worse than before. "You were limping earlier. Is your leg bothering you?"

"A little."

"You could take some Motrin."

"I could, but I won't, not unless it gets worse."

"Motrin isn't addictive. There's no need to punish yourself by being in more pain than you have to be."

Ray glanced sideways, frowning. "I'm not punishing myself. Why'd you say that?"

"If it's not punishing yourself, then why not use it?"

"Because it makes me drowsy."

"Worse than the Percocet did?"

"Yeah. Weird, I know, but that's the way it works." Ray continued to massage his leg with his right hand. "Don't worry. It's probably just cramping up because of those tight seats we were in. No place to stretch out."

"That's certainly a possibility." Fraser sat quietly, his hands folded together in his lap, his face drawn from the strain of flying. "Traveling is faster now, but it's not always easier."

"That yakketty-yak lady and her kid from hell that sat behind us didn't help. Kid needed a good kick in the head."

"Now, Ray, you know you'd never really kick a child."

"No, but that doesn't stop me from thinking about it when they act like brats." Ray snorted to himself. "Man, I can remember me at that age. God, I was a wild child, always running around, playing cops and robbers, shooting up the trailer. My mom used to bribe me with chocolate candy and cookies just to get me to sit still for a few minutes."

Fraser turned his head, appalled. "But, Ray, chocolate can lead to even more hyperactivity."

"We know that now, Fraser. We didn't know that then."

"Good Lord, your dear mother."

"Yeah, I know. She put up with a lot. I was a handful."

Fraser smiled, his voice lower, more sexy. "You're a handful now."

Ray met his eyes, smirking. "Only a handful?"

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, Fraser shook his head, chastising himself as well as Ray. "No, we can't start. We're in a public place and we might be boarding soon."

"And you don't want to fly with a hard on?"

"Ray, language."

Ray motioned to the immediate area around them. "Look, Fraser, we're practically alone here, and I get the feeling that even if we weren't, nobody around here would care."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, nobody batted an eye at that lesbian couple a few seats up from us on the plane."

"Lesbian couple?"

"You know, the redhead and the blond, the ones holding hands?"

"They might have been sisters."

"On Mars maybe. Fraser, they were feeding each other and having a really good time doing it. If they were sisters, then I'm Yogi Bear."

Fraser nodded reluctantly, conceding the point. "Even if they were, as you say, lesbians, Ray, that doesn't mean people here are more accepting of public displays by homosexual couples than in Chicago. In general, I've noticed people are less likely to react in a negative way toward lesbians than gay men."

"That's true, but still, it got me to thinking."

"About what?"

"About how I want it to be like that for us someday." Ray turned in his seat slightly. "Wherever we end up, I want it to be okay to hold hands in public, to show affection, to kiss like regular couples do. I don't want to go through life worrying about getting bashed and hiding who we are, hiding how important we are to each other."

Fraser reached over and took his hand and sighed deeply. "I want the same thing, Ray. Hiding seems so dishonest, disrespectful to our love, but I'm still not convinced that revealing our relationship at this point is the right thing to do."

"Well, it's not as long as I'm Vecchio, but I'm telling you now, Fraser, when he comes back, I need that to change."

"As do I."

Ray squeezed Fraser's hand and grinned. "Okay, okay. We're on the same page here."

"It would seem so."

Ray noted a slight hesitation. "What?"

"It's just that we don't know how much longer that will be. It's like we're suspended between secrecy and being allowed to be open. It's very disconcerting."

"It's a pain in the ass. It's like we're on hold as long as the Feds keep Vecchio on a leash."

"I believe I just said that."

"Just wanted to make sure."

Before Fraser could reply, the announcement for boarding their plane to Yellowknife came over the intercom, first in English and then French.

"How do you say about fucking time in French, Frase?"

Fraser didn't bother to answer as they both got up and headed to the line.

"Sure is snowing up a storm."

Fraser looked over and smiled patiently. "Yes, it does that here."

"No shit." Ray stared out the window of the SUV and shook his head. "So, how long have you known Alan?"

"We met during my brief assignment at Moose Jaw."

"Moose Jaw?"

"Yes. It was his first posting."

Ray nodded, keeping his voice even. "So, you two ever get together?"

Fraser frowned. "Hardly. Alan's married with two children."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Perhaps not to some, but it does to me. Besides, I told you before with whom I've had relations."

"I know, I know. It's just, well, he seemed so, I don't know, friendly, almost too friendly."

"Are you jealous?"

"Me, no way. I'm just curious about what the deal is. The guy looks about ready to come when he sees you and he's falling all over himself to be accommodating. He gives us his cabin and already has it stocked and ready."

"He's a good friend."

"That's all?"

Fraser kept his eyes on the road, but the irritation strained his voice. "Aren't I allowed good friends?"

"Well, yeah, I didn't mean it like that. I just, hell, I don't know what I meant. Forget it. I'm just tired. How much longer?"

"Just a bit." Fraser hesitated before he added, "Alan thinks he's obligated to me for doing my job."

"Come again?"

"There was a rather serious incident in Moose Jaw during a robbery. Alan was shot and taken hostage. I defused the situation and got him out alive. After that, despite my assurances that there was no need, he became very obsessive about doing things to repay me."

"That makes sense."

"Does it?"

"Well, sure. You save a guy's life, he kind of falls for you, either as a friend or a partner. It works that way sometimes."

Focusing on the road, Fraser nodded. "It would appear so. However, I must confess I feel rather guilty using that feeling to my advantage."

"You mean like accepting the use of the cabin?"

"Precisely, yes."

"Don't. Speaking from experience, it feels good to give things to people you care about. Take my word on this, Fraser, the guy likes you. A lot."

"You're exaggerating, Ray. We haven't seen one another for several years. He was just glad to see me."

"Yeah, I got that. Wife and kids or no wife and kids, if I weren't along, I'm telling you, Alan would be more than happy to show you just how grateful he is."

"Jealousy doesn't become you."

"I'm not jealous, just telling you the truth."

"As you see it."

"Well, yeah, since that's the only truth most of us have."

"Quite."

They stayed quiet for a few more moments, until Fraser turned the car onto a side road.

"We here?"

"Almost. It's up ahead."

"How can you even see anything? Between the dark and this blizzard, I can't even make out the road."

"My night vision has always been above average."

"I'll say."

Another minute and they stopped in front of a small cabin. Fraser picked up a flashlight and handed it to Ray. "Here. This should help until I get the generator turned on and the fire started. The generator's already been primed and the fire laid out, so it shouldn't take long."

"I'll get the bags in."

"We'll both get them in. I'll start the fire first, then the generator. You need to get inside and get warm. You're overtired."

"What about you?"

"I'm tired, too, but this won't take long. Come on. Let's get inside."

Even with the heavy coat, hat, and gloves, the icy wind bit into his skin, made him shiver. Carrying the bag, Ray worked his way up to the cabin, the snow up over his boots, his feet freezing. His leg throbbed and as he stepped up on the porch, he missed and went down hard. Pain shot up his left arm and through his leg. "Shit."

"Ray, are you all right?"

"No, I'm not all right. I'm too fucking cold to move." He reached out his right hand. "Help me up."

A strong arm pulled him to his feet as Fraser brushed off the snow. Then he put his other arm around him to balance him as they made it inside. Ray limped over to the sofa in front of the fireplace, allowing Fraser to help guide him. Sagging down, he closed his eyes, the pain in his arm almost too much, like he'd broken it all over again. Swallowing hard, sick to his stomach, he fought back the sting of tears.

A blanket settled over him. "I'll start the fire."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Ray. You're tired and you fell."

"I also hurt my arm again."

"Let me get the fire started and I'll look at it."

"Sure."

It only took a matter of minutes before Fraser had the blaze going, the heat welcome against the damp cold of the cabin interior. Settling beside him, Fraser picked up his arm as Ray groaned and complained. "Ow. Ow. Ow."

"The cast looks intact."

"Ow, Fraser. It hurts."

"You must have jarred it."

"No shit."

"Do you think we should drive over to the hospital and have it checked?"

Ray pulled his arm back, holding it protectively against his chest. "No, I'm just being a wimp."

"You're not a wimp to admit to pain."

Arm still aching, Ray shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Just go start the generator so we can settle in. If I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to do more than fall on my ass."

Fraser pulled off Ray's cap and fussed with his hair, still wearing his gloves, his voice soft. "You'll feel better in the morning."

"Sure, I know. I'm just a lousy traveler. I don't mean to take it out on you."

"I don't mind."

"You should."

"Perhaps I would if I thought you were being petulant on purpose. As it is, I realize we've just spent fifteen hours traveling. I must confess to feeling a bit on edge myself."

Ray glanced over at the double bed at the corner of the small room. "Then go get the generator jacked up and let's hit the sack, the sooner the better. I'm not fit to be around when I get this whipped."

Fraser kissed his cheek and stood up. "It shouldn't take long. There are extra blankets in the chest at the end of the bed."

"Sure. Now go."

As soon as Fraser left, Ray stood up and limped to the bed. He took off his gloves and coat carefully, his body complaining even more with every move. He'd have some serious bruises by morning. He hung up his things on the rack by the bed and then slipped off his shirt. He sat down and took off his boots, set them to the side, and then stood up to take off his jeans. Wearing only his thermals and socks, he pulled back the several layers of wool blankets and crawled in. He took the side by the wall and then waited for Fraser to return.

From outside, he heard the sputter and hum as the generator started. At least they'd have lights in the morning. Closing his eyes, he listened to the crack of snow, the wind whipping through the trees, all the sounds he couldn't hear at home. Whoever thought nature was quiet had never been to the wilds of Canada.

Fraser's boots stomped on the porch before he opened the door and came inside. He latched the door shut and stepped closer to the bed, the glow of the firelight making him even more handsome than before.

Ray talked quietly around the lump in his throat. "Hey."

Fraser smiled, his whole face warm and radiant with joy. "Hey. Welcome to Canada, Ray."

"Thank you kindly. You didn't have to go to all the trouble to make it a winter wonderland, you know."

"No trouble at all." Ray waited impatiently as Fraser removed his hat, gloves, and then jacket. "Would you like something to drink, Ray? Alan said the pump's already been primed."

"No, thanks. I just want you to hurry up and get in bed."

"Ah, well, that can be arranged." Lickety split and Fraser stripped down to his red long johns. He lifted the blankets to slide in, his body like a furnace against Ray. He snuggled in closer, wrapping his arms around Ray's body.

"Feels good."

"Yes, it does." Fraser lifted his head. "Did you take your medicine?"

"Yeah, back in town while you and Alan were catching up on old times."

Fraser frowned and shook his head. "Alan's a dear friend, but there's really no need to be jealous, Ray. I hope you know that by now."

"I do."

"You don't sound convincing."

Ray turned on his side, ignoring the complaints from his arm and leg. He nuzzled in against Fraser's neck, his voice a whisper. "I know he's not your type."

"My type?"

"Yeah, you know, a Yank with experimental hair type?"

"Oh, that type. Indeed, he's not, not even close." Fraser kissed him on his forehead and then pulled the covers up. "We should probably eat before we go to sleep."

"I'm not moving and if you try to get up, I'll crack you in the head with my cast."

"Enough said. I'll stay put."

"Smart Mountie."

Ray groaned with discomfort and rolled over in the empty bed. "Fraser?"

"Here, Ray."

Opening his eyes, Ray blinked several times to clear his vision. Without his glasses and in the low light it was hard to see, but he made out Fraser kneeling by the fire. "What time is it?"

"It's still early, five o'clock. I needed to work the fire."

His head dropped back to the pillow as he pulled the covers up around his neck. Not only did the cold make his bones ache, the fall from the night before made his arm and leg bitch even more than usual. A few moments later, Fraser opened the chest at the end of the bed and pulled out a huge blanket. "My goodness, look at this."

"What?"

"It's a down comforter."

"Toss it over and get back in bed. I'm freezing my ass off here."

Fraser put the comforter over Ray and the crawled in beside him. "I wasn't expecting that."

"What?"

"The comforter."

Ray turned his head, looking at Fraser's plaintive expression. "Why's that a big deal?"

"Usually Alan keeps the cabin stocked with only the standard issue wool blankets. The comforter is a personal extravagance."

Ray tensed. "How do you know that?"

"I stayed in the cabin once before when I visited."

"Did you tell Alan you were bringing someone with you when you called?"

Frowning, Fraser turned on his side and lifted his head, resting it on an upraised hand. "Why do you ask that?"

"Did you?"

"Actually, no. When I first called, I just told him I needed to come up for a few weeks and he offered me a place to stay."

"Mystery solved."

"What are you talking about?"

"Fraser, I know you don't want to see it, and it really doesn't matter to me since I know you'd never do anything about it, but Alan didn't expect you to be using this bed without him."

His expression darker, Fraser let his head fall back against the pillow. "I'm a fool."

"You're not a fool, Fraser."

"I must be. I never even suspected."

"Not even a little bit?"

"Not at all."

"Your gaydar must have a short in it."

"So it would seem."

Ray rolled over and drew Fraser closer to him, kissing his neck, taking a deep breath. His lover smelled of wood smoke and freshly fallen snow. His cock woke up and begged for an early start. "It's okay. He'll get over it. He knew the score as soon as he saw me and he handled it fine."

"But I'm usually better about seeing the signs."

Thinking about his own slow revelation about Fraser, Ray whispered, "Well, we all miss sometimes."

Fraser moaned and closed his eyes as Ray licked his jaw. "Do that again."

"No problem." Ray ran his tongue up the side of Fraser's face, pleased with his lover's involuntary shudder. He shifted, wanting to kiss him, but grunted in pain as his arm and leg refused to move without a fight.

"What's wrong?"

"Just a little sore."

"From the fall?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Fraser nodded and then sat up, moving out of the bed just long enough to strip off his red long johns and then get back in. "Let me do the work." He pulled Ray up and forward enough to take off the top of his thermals before removing the bottoms. Pushing Ray onto his back, he straddled his middle. The covers dropped off, the cold air of the cabin a huge contrast from all the body heat in the bed.

Falling forward, Fraser captured his mouth, kissing him deeply. His thick tongue explored and probed, stealing the air. Ray didn't care, his body turned on, running wild with the thought of all the things Fraser might want to work at.

Pulling back, Fraser smiled wickedly and then turned around, his back to Ray. He moved the blankets out of the way and then kneeled on all fours, his ass and cock in Ray's face, his head aimed at Ray's crotch. Ever so slowly, using his forearms to balance himself, he lowered his body and head so that he could tongue the tip of Ray's cock. All the while his own dick stood out, needy and wanting attention. Ray moaned with pleasure when Fraser took him in that mouth, his tongue making the pressure work, sending delicious shivers all through Ray's balls, up his spine.

Despite the wonderful distraction of his own cock being sucked, Ray reached out and strained his neck to get a taste of Fraser. The bitter tang washed over his tongue as he held it steady and let it slide between his lips. Fraser thrust carefully into his mouth, all the while keeping Ray's cock prisoner, attacking with a deadly rhythm. It drove him crazy to be fucked in the mouth and to be tormented by Fraser's uncanny ability to know just when he might come and then to change his movements just enough so he wouldn't. Pissed at being forced to wait, Ray cranked up his own efforts, making sure to lick and lap Fraser like he'd never been licked and lapped before. A whimper along with a more urgent attempt on Fraser's end rewarded Ray for his efforts. Not the least bit fancy, but very effective, Ray spit on his index finger and then slipped it into Fraser's hole, making sure he didn't get a chance to pull away.

Fraser gasped, coming in his mouth, the spill warm and spiky at the back of Ray's throat. After a few moments, Fraser slipped out of Ray's mouth and doubled his pace. Air thinned to nothing as Ray's head fell back, his mind reeling with pleasure. Wet heat streamed up his middle, his cock and balls exploding all at once. Convulsing, Ray screamed Fraser's name as his lover used his tongue and lips to suck him completely dry. His right hand grabbed Fraser's thigh, his hips arched upward. Tears rolled down the side of his face as he closed his eyes, reveling in the release, in the completion, in being truly intimate with Fraser.

Turning, Fraser shifted over, lying beside him again and pulling up the blankets and comforter. He kissed him, smiling and ahhing into his mouth. "You taste delightful, Ray."

"It's Canadian. Like it?"

"Almost as much as the American brand." He kissed him again and then snuggled in closer.

"And you were afraid I'd get bored."

Fraser laughed quietly, his quick breaths a tickle and tease to Ray's neck. "It appears I might have been mistaken."

"Can I have that in writing?"

"What?"

"That you were wrong. I mean, it's an historic event. I want a permanent record."

"Well, it's still early. We've got two weeks to prove me right."

Ray thought of all the great ways he could use Fraser's mouth and ass to prove him wrong. "That a challenge?"

"Might be."

"A double dog dare?"

"A what?"

"You know, a bet you can't back away from, one that's a matter of saving face?"

Fraser wrapped his arms around Ray and pulled him closer, his hands cupping Ray's ass as they lay cock-to-cock. "Actually, I'm going to do my best to make sure I am wrong."

"Stacking the deck in my favor, huh?"

"If need be."

Ray sighed happily as Fraser kissed the side of his neck, sucking enough to leave a mark. "Isn't that cheating?"

"Mounties never cheat, Ray."

"No?"

"No. We merely make sure the right side perseveres."

"You cheat." Ray closed his eyes, all dreamy as Fraser kissed all over his face and then back to his neck again. He drowned in the sensation, Fraser's tongue like magic, making his whole body melt in his lover's strong arms.

"I don't want you to be bored, Ray, never bored, not with me."

"Never going to happen."

Fraser pulled back, his blue eyes darker, even more serious. "I love you so much."

"Same here."

Fraser searched his face, finally satisfied. Fraser rested his forehead against Ray's chest, his voice low and still raw. "It scares me sometimes."

"What?"

"This."

"This? What this?"

"This thing between us. I've never felt like this."

"Join the club. I've been scared shitless ever since this thing started." As Fraser tried to pull away, Ray held on tight, keeping him close. "But the joy outweighs all of that fear, Fraser. It's a kickass kind of wonder that makes it all worthwhile."

Fraser relaxed and nodded against his chest. He didn't speak again, but lay there, his breathing slowing, his eyes shut. Ray fingered his dark, wavy hair and realized once again just how damn lucky he was. Gruesome history dimmed when he held his future in his arms.

Warm and toasty, the smell of fresh coffee pulled Ray up from sleep. He turned over in the empty bed and opened his eyes slowly. Fully dressed, Fraser stood at a stove on the other side of the room fixing breakfast. The man never gave up on trying to feed him. "Morning, Frase."

"Good morning, Ray."

"Feels good in here."

"Yes, well, the wood burning stove in addition to the fireplace makes it much warmer than usual. I thought you might appreciate it."

"You don't usually keep it this cozy without me?"

"Not usually, no."

"I'm flattered." Ray lay still for a moment, watching the precise movements as Fraser shifted something around in the skillet. "What that?"

"Pan-fried biscuits and some caribou steaks. They should be done shortly."

"Caribou steaks? For breakfast?"

"They're quite tasty and full of protein." Fraser turned, his voice stern. "Except for some peanuts, you didn't eat yesterday, Ray. You will eat this morning."

Ray didn't want to fight, though the thought of eating a steak made out of some animal he'd only heard of in Fraser's Inuit stories sounded a bit over the top. Still, he was on Fraser's turf now, so he'd try it. "Sure, okay. Biscuits sound good. Got any jelly?"

"No, but there's orange marmalade. I'm also heating some water if you'd like to wash off or shave."

"Heating water?"

"Yes. We have the pump and the drain, but I'm afraid there's no running hot water."

"Speaking of facilities, where's the can?"

Fraser turned, his expression a weird mixture of amusement and concern. "The compost toilet is outside by the woodshed to the right of the cabin or you can use the bucket under the bed."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm afraid not."

"Shit."

"I'm sorry, Ray. I probably should've mentioned it."

Ray sighed and sat up, swinging his naked legs over the side of the bed. He hurriedly pulled on his thermals and then his jeans, hissing as he moved too quickly. His leg didn't want to move any faster and the fingers on his broken hand throbbed from being swollen again.

Fraser stepped closer. "Ray, just use the bucket."

Ray buttoned up his flannel shirt as fast as he could one-handed. "I'm not using the bucket, Fraser. Hand me my coat and hat."

While he put on his boots, Fraser handed him his outerwear. "You don't have to be so stubborn."

"Fraser, if it's the middle of the night, sure, I'll wiz in the bucket, but right now, I'm not doing that. Plus, there are other considerations here, and I'm not starting my vacation stinking up the place. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Good. Now, have that coffee ready and I'll be right back."

Frazer nodded, but held out one more item before he went back to the stove. Ray snatched the toilet paper, wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into. Damn Mountie brought him out in the middle of nowhere so he could freeze his dick off. "You know if I'm not back in ten minutes, you'd better come get me. I might freeze to the damn lid."

Sheepishly, Frazer apologized. "I'm afraid there's no lid, per se, Ray, just an opening really."

Despite the grim reality of such a statement, Ray shook his head and laughed out loud. "I'm an idiot."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I should've thought about all this. Instead, I just thought about all the great stuff in those brochures with the pretty pictures you've got at the Consulate. You guys ought to be sued for false advertising. Not one mentions having to shit in the woods with the damn bears."

"There shouldn't be any bears about, Ray. Most hibernate at this time of year."

"Miss the point much? Never mind. I gotta go. Keep your fingers crossed that I don't fall in."

"I have every faith in your abilities to survive such an adventure, Ray."

"Yeah, yeah." Ray stomped out of the cabin, unprepared for the bitterness of the wind or the fact that there was still so little light. Not as dark as the night before, but nearly, he looked to the right and spotted his target at the end of a shoveled trail. He didn't know when his partner had time to do it, but he sure appreciated the effort. "Thank you, Fraser."

Moving as quickly as he could, watching his footing, he made it to the toilet and opened the door. One good thing about the frigid temperatures was it kept the smell down. Awkwardly, he pulled down his jeans and thermals, pissing first before sitting down, biting his lower lip so he wouldn't scream when his balls got blasted. Hurriedly, he finished his business and wiped as best he could. Then he covered himself up again, thinking that he would never again complain about cleaning the bathroom at home, never again take indoor plumbing for granted. Hell, this explained a lot about Fraser's long stays in his bathroom. The guy was just making up for lost time.

Grabbing up the toilet paper, he headed back in, more than ready to have some hot coffee. Fraser handed him a mug full as soon as he walked in as he took the toilet paper and put it back on the shelf. "I trust everything went well."

"Everything went fine, but if my dick falls off from frostbite, I'll let you know. Jesus, it's cold out."

"Have a seat."

Fraser directed him to the small table by the stove. Ray took off his coat and hat. "I need to wash up some first."

"Excellent idea." Fraser went to the sink and poured some of the heated water into a big metal bowl before adding cooler water from the pump. He laid out soap, cloth, and a towel. "You can shave after breakfast."

"Sure, that's fine."

Ray quickly washed his hands and then his face. He lifted his shirt and cleaned his armpits and then undid his jeans to do a quick soap and rinse of his crotch and backside. Feeling better, he toweled off, buttoned up, and then got rid of the dirty water. He turned to find Fraser watching his every move. Smiling, he crossed his arms and leaned back against the sink. "Like the show?"

"Very much so."

"Maybe next time, I'll let you do the honors."

"I'd be more than happy to oblige."

"You're a freak."

"A hungry freak actually. Come sit down and eat. The steak is well done, the way you like your meat cooked."

"And yours is no doubt still bleeding."

"Not at all. With wild game, the food must be cooked thoroughly."

"Wild game, huh?"

Noting his hesitation, Fraser cut some of his steak and ate it. "It's very good, Ray. Please try some. Just pretend it's beef."

Settling in the seat opposite Fraser, Ray picked up his fork. "Does it taste like beef?"

"Not really."

"What's it taste like?"

"Caribou."

As Fraser proceeded to devour his own food, Ray decided to give it a shot. The worst it could do is end up in the bucket. Tender enough to be cut with a fork, he took a bite. The strong flavor reminded him of venison he'd had once, only better, easier to swallow and keep down. "Not bad."

"I'm glad you like it."

"You season this with anything?"

"Salt and pepper and a bit of thyme and rosemary."

Ray nodded, remembering the times he'd used those in his own cooking. "Good job." He picked up a pan biscuit, added some butter, and then some marmalade. Eating the whole thing without talking, he wiped his mouth and drank a whole mug of heavily sugared coffee. "Guess I was more hungry than I thought."

Fraser refilled his drink and then heated his tea with hot water. "Yesterday was a long day. You didn't eat and you didn't drink nearly enough."

"Yeah, well, I can't when I'm worked up. You know that."

"Yes, I know. It's just difficult when I know you need to take better care of yourself."

Ray ate another bite of caribou. "You keep cooking like this and I'll put on the weight in no time. Wonder if you can get this caribou stuff on a pizza."

To Ray's surprise, Fraser nodded and smiled. "Actually, there is a restaurant in town that specializes in moose and caribou dishes. I'm sure we can try them during our visit."

"Moose?"

"It's a tougher, stronger meat than caribou, but when cooked properly, it too can be quite tasty."

"Oh, yeah, I'll bet. Of course, if I were starving, living up here for long, there's no telling what I might eat." Ray turned his eyes on Fraser, his lips thinned into a mischievous grin. "Is it cannibalism if you only eat parts of your partner?"

"Actually, I believe it's got a different name entirely."

"Remind me of that later on today. We might try that out."

Fraser flushed and he shook his head. "You're insatiable."

"Is that like never getting enough, because if it is, then I'm your guy these days." Ray's voice softened. "Seriously, Fraser, I think about you all the time, doing these things to me, me doing things to you. I never dreamed I'd be thinking the stuff I'm thinking."

"And this pleases you?"

"Pleases the hell out me." Ray looked down at his plate, avoiding Fraser's intent gaze. "It's just I didn't think I'd ever be well enough to want this kind of thing, to be with you like this. I thought I was so fucked up, I'd never be happy again, and never with a man, not with someone I could really trust and care about."

Fraser's touch to his hand surprised him, but not enough for him to pull away. "I feel much the same way, Ray. After all my bad choices, I never thought I'd take the chance again. I didn't even know if I could." The words choked and Ray lifted his head, seeing the tear run down the side of Fraser's face. "I cut myself off, numbed myself with my dedication to duty so I wouldn't run the chance of falling in love again. Then you came along and I started feeling again, feeling things I thought were dead inside myself. You resurrected not only my faith and spirit, but my heart."

"God, you say the prettiest things."

Fraser wrapped his hand in both his own. "I mean it, Ray. You saved me from a dreary and empty existence. I didn't even realize how barren my life was until you transformed it."

"How is that possible, Fraser? You did the same thing for me. I thought I was a goner, lost and ready for the great dumpster in the sky, you know? I was so fucked up and fucked over, I couldn't see anything worth living for. You changed all that and even after what happened, you stuck with me. You made me hang in there when it would've been a hell of a lot easier not to."

Lifting Ray's hand to his lips, Fraser kissed it. "I love you, Ray."

Whispering, his throat dry, Ray leaned in closer. "You want to come back to bed and show me?"

Fraser's eyes sparkled as he answered by standing up and moving them back to the bed, a place where they both relied on the other for salvation.

Sunday passed in a blur, a mixture of love-making and sleeping, cuddling, and just luxuriating in being together. Ray spooned in behind Fraser, his arms wrapped around him, reluctant to let go, sad to see Monday morning arrive.

"Ray, I need to work the fire and get more wood."

"Just a few more minutes."

"Ray."

"I know, I know. Too clingy." He rested his forehead against the back of Fraser's neck, still unable to release him.

Fraser shifted in the bed, the mattress dipping as he turned to face Ray. He took his face between both hands and then kissed him deeply before pulling back. "I just need to add some wood. I'll get more later. Give me a minute."

"Not going anywhere."

Fraser kissed him one more time and then rolled over to the outside of the bed. He swung his legs over the side and quickly reached for his long johns and boots. Ray smiled as he watched his lover leave his boots unlaced as he hurried to get over to take care of the fire, tossing on the last log, sparks flying up. Fraser shifted the embers, making sure to have a healthy flame before returning to bed. He slipped off his boots, but kept his long johns on as he slid under the covers.

Fraser pulled him close as he spoke quietly. "I need to get dressed and get more wood in."

"I know." Ray closed his eyes, unable to give up too soon. "Just let me wallow some more."

Chuckling, Fraser kissed the side of his neck. "I think we've wallowed a whole day away."

"Is that what you call it in Canada, wallowing?"

"We have other names, but wallowing will do nicely. I could wallow with you forever."

"Same here." Sighing, Ray pulled back enough to see Fraser's face, but not far enough to lose contact. "You know I could get used to living up here, well, except for the outhouse thing. If we move North, we've got to work on the plumbing situation, because I've got to tell you, it sucks to have an icicle for a dick."

"One gets used to it."

"Hell, you can get used to anything, but that doesn't mean you like it." Running his index over Fraser's whiskered chin, he teased, "Tell me you don't love my bathroom at home."

Fraser's expression turned dreamy. "I must admit it's an exceptional bathroom."

"With a shower and a tub, hot water, and a flushing toilet, it's a great place. Wish we could just blink and have it right here." Suddenly more serious, Ray added, "But to tell the truth, that's the only thing I miss about Chicago, well, except for Turtle and Dief."

"I'm sure Frannie's taking good care of both."

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's just I wish we could've at least brought Dief. He'd love running through the snow. I'd like to see him go wild for a little bit, be a real wolf for a change."

"Oh, he's much the same here as in Chicago, Ray. Diefenbaker is one of those rare creatures who seems to be able to adapt quickly regardless of his environment."

"Yeah, but here he's going for the rabbit instead of the doughnut, king of the woods stuff."

"Yes, he does rather enjoy the chase once he gets the scent."

"And what about you, Fraser? What do you enjoy about being back here?"

Fraser hugged him tighter, his voice deep and husky. "Having you all to myself for one. I must confess, being here fulfills certain fantasies I've had for a very long time."

Ray smiled, his face pressed against Fraser's chest, the strong heart beating against his ear. "You saying you've thought about dragging me off to the snowy wilderness to have your way with me before?"

"More than once, yes."

"I like that idea. Tell me something, Frase, what other fantasies do you have?" Fraser's heart raced and Ray lifted his head, frowning at his lover's serious face. "What?"

"It's nothing, Ray. I don't want to spoil this."

It hit him hard as Ray realized what Fraser wanted. "You want to fuck me."

"Make love to you, yes, but I understand why that won't happen, Ray. You've been very honest about your feelings. I'm very happy with the way things are."

"But you'd be happier if you could do me like I do you, right?"

"I would never ask you do something that you're uncomfortable doing, Ray. Besides, it's too soon. You don't even like me to touch you there. I respect and understand that."

Pulling away, sitting up, Ray rubbed his face several times, no longer warm and fuzzy. "I can't help it. I want to, but I can't. I'm sorry."

Fraser touched his shoulder and squeezed gently. "It's perfectly fine, Ray. It doesn't matter."

"But it does. It's something you want. And it's only fair, since I do you all the time. I mean, you love it, right, me doing you like that?"

"Absolutely."

"And it doesn't hurt?"

"Only at first, but then it's perfect." Fraser's frown deepened. "I didn't mean to upset you. I love making love with you, Ray, and it doesn't matter to me how we do it."

"But it should."

"I don't understand."

"It's like you're being cheated."

"That's just silly, Ray. I've never felt more loved in my life, never."

Ray met Fraser's eyes. "Never?"

"Never."

Relaxing just a bit at the reassurance, Ray swallowed hard, the panic slowly subsiding. "I'm sorry."

Fraser wrapped his arms around Ray's chest and drew him into an embrace again before pulling up the covers. "There's no need to be sorry."

"Feels like it. I wish I could do more, but I can't. I just can't."

"I know."

They remained quiet for several long moments before Ray finally spoke. "So, what do you want to do today?"

"Well, I thought we might take a tour of the town. There are several people I'd like you to meet."

"Guess I need to shave then."

"If you'd like, I could shave you."

Ray relaxed some more, sighing. "Yeah, yeah, that should be okay. As long as I keep my eyes closed, I can do that."

Fraser kissed his forehead. "You know, Ray, if you wanted to move to a place in town, we could. There are several very nice places where we could stay and they all have inside plumbing."

"But you'd hate that and it's expensive."

"That doesn't matter if it's what you want."

"It's not, not really. Sure, I wouldn't mind a shower and hot water, not to mention a toilet that doesn't freeze my balls off, but, hey, I'm not giving up the rest of it."

"Rest of it?"

"Being with you, out here all alone, just the two of us doing what we want, when we want. What's a little frostbite and sacrifice to hygiene compared to all that?"

"I see your point." Fraser dipped his head and sniffed deeply. "Besides, I love the way you smell, Ray, bathed or not."

"Major freak on the loose here."

Fraser didn't bother to tease back, but simply licked along Ray's collarbone and then slid down to greedily suckle his nipples. Ray gasped and surrendered, drowning in every touch of his lover's mouth.

"Constable Benton Fraser, get your ass over here."

Ray took off his heavy coat and hat, putting them on the hooks by the door. He nervously tried to tame his wild spikes as a large, dark-haired woman proceeded to accost his partner. She grabbed Fraser by both arms and pulled him into a hell of a bear hug. Ray smiled when he realized Fraser returned the embrace, but had flushed bright red from the unexpected attention.

Once she released him and stepped back, Fraser removed his Stetson and bowed. "It's good to see you, too, Mimi."

"McClain said you were back in town. Damn, it's good to see you. It's been way too long. Jeremy's almost twelve." Mimi's brown eyes spotted Ray. "And this must be the good-looking Yank I heard about." She held out a hand to a suddenly self-conscious Ray. "The name's Mimi LeBeau. Might be old and grey before Benton here introduces us."

"Ray Vecchio. Pleased to meet you."

"Vecchio, huh? With that coloring, your folks must be from the north part of Italy."

Fraser interrupted and changed the subject. "Ray's my partner from Chicago. We're here on vacation."

"In the middle of winter?" She eyed Ray's cast and recently scarred throat before holding up her hand. "Never mind, not my business. You two take a booth and I'll bring over a menu. You want tea, Benton?"

"Tea would be lovely, and Ray likes coffee." He paused and added, "And if you've got some Smarties at the counter, bring those over as well. He likes chocolate in his drink."

She thumbed the side of her nose. "Sweet tooth. Gotcha. Take a seat. I'll bring it right out."

They walked to the open booth at the back of the cafe next to the window. "Local character?"

"One of many." He motioned for Ray to sit as he slid into the booth. It took Ray a little longer, wincing as he had to use one hand to move his stiff leg. "Is it still bothering you?"

"Yeah."

"I'll change the bandage and check it again as soon as we get back to the cabin."

"It's fine, Fraser. Don't worry about it. It's just bruised up some from the fall. It'll be fine."

Fraser didn't look the least big convinced as he nodded toward Ray's bloated fingers at the edge of his cast. "Your fingers are discolored and swollen, too. Is your arm still hurting?"

"Some."

"Perhaps while we're in town, we'll swing by the hospital and have a doctor check it out. You might have done some damage with the fall Saturday night."

Ray wiggled his fingers, then touched each one with his thumb, causing just a steady ache in his wrist and his lower arm. "I just need to move them more. Do the finger exercises the doc wanted me to do."

"The exercises don't seem to be helping."

Ray shrugged. "If it's not better in a few days, maybe, but not now."

Mimi brought a tray with the water, tea, coffee, and a box of Smarties. "Here you go." She gave them the menus and smiled at Ray. "If there's anything on there that you don't know about, ask your partner here. He's had just about every dish we serve at one time or another."

"How's that? He a regular?"

"You think I greet all the Mounties with a hug like that?" Before he could answer, she smiled good-naturedly. "Yeah, Benton here came in on a regular basis that last time he stayed in town." She turned her attention back to Fraser. "Where's Diefenbaker?"

"He's staying with a friend."

"That's a shame. I would've liked to give him a big soup bone. I know how he loves those."

"I'll be sure to let him know you asked after him."

Smiling, she tapped the menus. "Take your time. Everything's good." Then she winked at Fraser. "And remember your money's no good here, Benton, for you or your friend."

"Mimi, please. That's very generous, but not necessary."

Her voice choked slightly, her face suddenly more red. "No please about it. You know I won't take your money, not after what you did."

Graciously, Fraser accepted. "Understood. Thank you."

As soon as she left, Ray leaned in, his voice low. "What did you do?"

"It's a long story."

Ray snorted as he lifted up the menu. "I live for long stories. Bet she's Inuit, too."

"Actually, she is on her mother's side."

"Figures."

"I'll tell you about it later, Ray, but not here."

The serious tone caught Ray's attention. Something bad must have happened and Fraser didn't want to discuss it in public. "Sure, no problem. So, what's good here?"

"As Mimi said, it's all quite good, but I'd say based on your preferences and your sensitive stomach, you should stick to the Caribou stew or Moose burgers with cheese. The burger comes with home-fried potatoes and some onion soup."

They both sounded pretty exotic for Ray's tastes. "What are you having?"

"I think I'm going to have a small rack of caribou with mint sauce and some buttered turnips. I think a lichen salad with pine nuts will go nicely with that."

"What, no blubber?"

"I think that's for dessert."

"You really like eating that stuff?"

"Do you really like eating pineapple pizza?"

Ray grinned and turned his attention back to the menu. "I get your point. To each his own. Besides, I figure you grew up eating this stuff. Guess I'm lucky you're not craving some roasted bear or musk ox or something."

"Actually bear can be quite tasty. Properly preserved, one bear can last a family of four several months. As to the musk ox, well, it tastes tainted no matter how many spices one uses. No one who wasn't starving would even try it."

"But you did?"

"I've tried just about everything at one time or another."

Ray glanced up from his menu and studied Fraser's calm face as his partner stared out the window. "We talking about food or something else?"

Fraser turned his head and met his eyes without wavering. "Both."

"Ah."

Mimi arrived at the side of the table, pad in hand. "I see he's got you doing it, too."

Ray shook his head in confusion, his mind still working out all the meanings to Fraser's comment. "Got me doing what?"

"The ah thing. Don't think we all do that up here in Canada. That's pretty much a Benton thing."

"Now it's a Ray thing. Bugs the hell out of him."

"Turning the tables, eh? That should get his goat." She smiled with her tease and then put her pencil to the pad. "So, you two decided?"

Fraser gave her his order and then Ray gave it a shot. "Well, I have to tell you, I'm new to this whole eat the wild game thing, Mimi, so bear with me. I've got a trick stomach. You trick it and it tricks me, got it?"

"So you want something mild and not too spicy, right?"

"Right. Now, Fraser here, he recommends the Moose burger or the Caribou stew. What do you think?"

"Those are both good, but still a bit spicy. Why don't I have them fix some baked chicken with either egg noodles or a baked potato and a side salad, made with greens instead of lichens."

"You got regular food here, too?"

"Sure. We don't get much call for it, but some of the local ex-Yanks seem to appreciate it."

"What local ex-Yanks?"

"Chris Frame and Eddie Banks to name two. You'd be surprised at the number of folks who show up here and stay. So, you want the chicken?"

"Sure, sounds good. I'll take it with the potato and give me ranch for the dressing if you've got it."

"Coming up."

Ray handed her the menu, suddenly hungry. He ignored his growling stomach and turned his attention back to Fraser. Dropping his Smarties in his coffee all at once, he spoke quietly. "So, you've tried just about everything on the menu, huh?"

"I think it's important to try new things to find what you like."

"And when you find what you like, do you stick with it?"

"If you're asking if I'm faithful, Ray, I am."

Ray smiled and met his concerned eyes as he stirred his coffee. "I wasn't, but that's good to know."

"So what were you asking?"

"I guess I was asking if you're going to be satisfied with a limited menu."

"You're a banquet, Ray. I don't need a menu."

Ray flushed fiercely as he sipped his coffee and imagined all the mouth-watering dishes he and Fraser could heat up and serve together.

Half the food still on the plate, Ray sat back, held his stomach and shook his head in dismay. "That's enough. Another bite and I'll pop."

"I highly doubt that, Ray."

"I'm stuffed to the gills, Frase, filled to the brim, not a spot left to plug."

Fraser lifted the napkin and wiped his mouth, thoroughly pleased with Ray's effort. "The portions here are rather larger than what you're used to."

"It was good though."

"Indeed."

Fraser continued to finish off his salad as Ray got a tooth pick and worked it around his back teeth, enjoying the quiet ambience of the cafe.

Mimi showed up beside the table, frowning at the food left on Ray's plate. "Didn't you like it?"

"Delicious, Mimi, but I couldn't eat another bite."

"You want a box to take it home?"

Fraser piped in. "That would be lovely, Mimi. Thank you."

"What about dessert? I've got chocolate pie and some fresh jam cake."

Ray shook his head. "Not for me. What about you, Frase?"

"Not today, Mimi. Perhaps before we leave."

"When's that?"

"We'll be here for two weeks."

Mimi smiled brightly. "You're staying through Christmas?"

"Yes. We'll be going back to Chicago on the 27th."

"You got plans for Christmas Day yet?"

Fraser glanced over at Ray, suddenly nervous. "We really haven't discussed that."

"You're both welcome to come to my place on Christmas Day. Everyone would love to see you and you haven't met the twins yet, Jason and James."

"The twins?"

"Susan's boys." Mimi's happy face saddened. "You know her Glenn was killed in that car crash. Now she's on her own and she's had to go to Toronto for the next two months for a job. I'm keeping them for now until she can find something closer."

"I'm sorry to hear about Glenn. I suppose Aunt Grace watches the boys while you're working."

"Yes. She says Jeremy was getting too grown up, so she was glad to have babies to tend to again." She stood straighter. "So what do you think about Christmas?"

Ray watched the indecision on Fraser's face, so he jumped in. "Can we get back to you on that, Mimi? We haven't really firmed up any plans about anything, just playing by ear. This is one of those whatchamacallits, you know where you get away from everything for a while so you can just relax and think about stuff that needs thinking about."

"Like a retreat?"

"Yeah, that's it, a retreat."

"Is that why you two decided to stay in that ice box out in the woods?"

Ray scratched his head, smiling, keeping his voice light. "Well, that was sort of Fraser's plan. Can't beat the price though."

"Sure I can. Like I said, Susan had to go out of town. You two could stay at her place. It's just sitting empty and I'm sure she wouldn't mind, not with the way she feels about Benton. Sure beats staying in McClain's place using an outhouse." Mimi turned her attention back to Fraser. "No pressure here, Benton. I know how you like living in the wilderness, roughing it and the like, but the offers there if you're interested. Now, let me go put this in a box."

Mimi picked up Ray's plate and carried it off into the kitchen, waving to a burly customer just coming in the door. "Be right there, Al. Hold your horses."

Ray grinned and shook his head. "She reminds me of Ma Vecchio."

"Yes, she does."

Fraser's quiet tone alerted him to his altered, suddenly pensive mood. "What's wrong, Frase?"

"We can get our things and move into town today if that's what you want, Ray. I shouldn't have assumed you'd prefer to stay in primitive conditions."

"Don't be stupid. If I didn't want to be there, I'd be in the motel or something."

"But it's less comfortable than a house in town."

"You saying you don't think I can hack it?"

"Not at all."

"Then shut up. I like where we are. Sure, it's cold when I have to go to the can, but so what? Can't beat the romance factor."

"Are you sure?"

"Fraser, you know me. You think I'd stay out there and freeze my ass off just to please you? Forget about it. The cabin suits me just fine. If it didn't, I'd be sure to let you know." He paused and grinned. "Of course, you can remind me I said that when I'm running out to take a leak when it's thirty below."

"What about the Christmas dinner?"

"As long as we get to spend time alone sometime, then that's fine. I've got no problem meeting all these folks and getting free food and a festive treat or two. Nothing wrong with that."

"It can get rather chaotic at times."

"Sounds like the Vecchios again. Sure Mimi's not Italian?"

"Quite sure."

"What about you, Fraser? Would it bother you to spend time at her place with the kids and everything?"

"Not at all. I just didn't want you to feel obligated."

"I'll let you know when I feel obligated, okay?"

"Understood."

Mimi returned carrying a brown shopping bag used for take out and put it on the table. "Here you go."

"Thank you kindly, Mimi."

"You're welcome."

"Ray and I have discussed your generous offer for Christmas Day and would be more than happy to accept. When would you like us to come by?"

Her face beamed. "That's great. We're going to eat around two, so noon would be fine."

"We'll be there. Thank you."

Rubbing her hands together, Ray could almost see the plans starting in her head. "This will be great. I'm going to call Aunt Grace. She was afraid you'd leave town without getting a chance to see you again."

"Give her my best."

"Sure will." Happy, she leaned over and patted Fraser's cheek and then quickly did the same thing to Ray's. "Benton, you've got great taste."

Before Ray could ask what she meant, she headed off to another table.

"Oh, dear."

"What?"

"I do believe she thinks we're a couple."

"Smart lady."

"Yes, she is."

"And she sure likes you."

Fraser nodded and slipped out of the booth. He picked up the shopping bag as Ray got up to follow. Stopping at the counter, Fraser took out several bills from his hat and put them in the jar at the check out. Ray read the label, "Donations go to Yellowknife Abused Women and Children's Shelter."

Ray smiled in approval as he got his coat and hat, wondering if the charity had anything to do with why Mimi felt so grateful to Fraser. He shut out those ideas momentarily when Fraser moved in close. "Let me put the food in the car before we go to the Trading Center across the street. I'd like to pick up a few things."

"Sure. We doing anything else while we're in town?"

"I need to stop at the RCMP station to pick up the rifles and the hunting licenses from Alan. Then there's a photo center we could visit or I could take you on a walking tour of the local historical sites."

"It's freezing out."

"I'll take that as a no on the tour then."

"Good guess, though I might stop at the photo center. You think they'd rent me a tripod?"

"For what purpose?"

"It's a little hard to hold the camera steady with one hand. I was thinking of putting up a tripod and seeing if I can get some shots at the edge of that forest line just to the back of the cabin. I saw a couple of Moose and some foxes yesterday morning when I went to the can. If I set something up, I might be able to get some good shots when it's not too dark."

"That's a very good idea, Ray. I'm sure if Cal doesn't normally rent tripods, I could persuade him to do so."

Ray shook his head in amusement. "You know all the guys in town by name?"

"I was here for six months on a substitute posting several years ago. As you probably found in your own work, it helps to know the local businessmen and women."

"That's true." Ray put his hat on and steeled himself for the coming blast. "So, this Trading Center, what are you looking to pick up?"

Fraser pulled open the door, his face calm, but his eyes merry. "This and that, Ray, this and that."

This and that turned out to be a mystery box, one that Fraser refused to let him even touch. "Afraid I'll shake it and figure out what it is?"

"Your deductive skills have always been quite impressive, Ray, so yes, that's quite possibly the reason."

"So whatever's in the box is for me, right?"

"Correct."

"For Christmas?"

"If not sooner."

Ray studied the box still on the counter more carefully. It was about two foot square and eight inches deep with no obvious bulges or markings. That narrowed it down some, but knowing Fraser, it could all be a ruse and the real present might be either very small or not in the box at all. Still, it puzzled him that Fraser would pick up a gift when he usually made all his presents. "Not even a hint?"

"You've had all the hints you need, Ray."

"Uhm, you're no fun."

"I beg to differ."

"Oh, yeah?"

"When we get back to the cabin, I plan to prove the point."

"Cocky Mountie."

Fraser's ears turned slightly pink as he continued to survey the other wares in the Trading Center. "Not here, Ray."

"Not here, what?"

"Not here as in we're in public."

Ray smacked himself playfully in the head for effect. "Right, right, we're pretending to be straight men shopping."

Fraser choked as Gus from behind the counter stepped closer in concern. "Are you all right, Constable Fraser? Do you need a drink of water?"

Holding up a hand, careful not to look at Ray, Fraser shook his head. "No, I'm fine, Gus. Thank you kindly."

"I've got some soda in the back if you need some."

"No, honestly, I'm fine."

Not completely convinced, the older man reluctantly stepped back to another customer at the check out.

"You did that on purpose, Ray."

"What?"

"You know perfectly well what."

Ray shrugged, more than happy to drop the innocent act. "Okay, okay, I'll be good."

"I should certainly hope so. Otherwise, the walk back to the cabin could be rather long and chilly."

Not really annoyed, but not ready to let Fraser get by with such a cheap shot, Ray countered. "You really think Mimi would let me walk out there alone?"

Fraser shook his head with a hesitant, but admiring smile. "I'm sure she would be more than happy to either drive you or keep you at her place until I came to my senses. She would, no doubt, take your side of the matter."

"How do you figure that?"

"She has a weakness for pretty men."

"Then she's bound to take your side over mine." Once again, Ray smiled seeing the effect that his words had on Fraser, who actually got flustered and a bit shy. Ray decided to stop teasing. "I'm sorry, Frase. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I guess it's being so far away from home. It kind of makes me a little reckless and I say things I should probably save for when we're alone."

"I find myself doing the same thing, Ray. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that I would actually strand you in town. I hope you know I'd never really do that."

"I do know that. Besides, you know I'd hunt you down and make you pay out the ass if you even thought about it."

"No doubt. So, do you see anything of interest?"

"I'm not really in the mood to do much shopping, though I do want to come back here before we leave. I need to pick up something for Frannie and Welsh."

"Perhaps we can pool our resources and buy them each something together."

"Good idea." Ray picked up a sealskin cap and eyed it from several angles. "You think Welsh would like something like this?"

"In my experience, I've never seen him wear headgear."

"Yeah, me, neither." Ray put the cap back on the shelf and picked up an dark green, hand-knitted wool scarf. "This is kind of nice."

"For Lt. Welsh?"

"No, for Frannie. I figure for Welsh, we could go with a wallet or a belt or something."

"That sounds very practical, Ray. Would you like to get those now?"

Ray shook his head. "No, later will do. I'm just trying to get an idea of what we can get here. Should we go to the photo shop next or go see about the guns?"

"Perhaps you'd like to go to the photo shop on your own while I go pick up the guns."

"Perhaps you'd like a smack in the head."

"Excuse me?"

"No way am I letting you hang around McClain alone."

"Ray, Ray, Ray, I explained..."

"I know what you explained, and I trust you, but no way, no how, are you seeing that guy without me. Understood?"

Fraser nodded, but his eyes twinkled as he stood a little closer. "Understood. Did you know your eyes get darker when you get possessive?"

"Yeah?"

"They turn a deep greenish blue color. It's very becoming. I'm not saying I condone jealousy, I don't, but I must say, I do like it when you're aggressive sometimes."

"I just know what I want and don't want. I want to be with you and I don't want that Alan guy to get a chance to plead his case."

"Plead his case?"

"Yeah, you know, the wife doesn't understand me, but you do case?"

If they'd been alone, Ray had no doubt that Fraser would've leaned in and given him a long, slow kiss. As it was, he just smiled, picked up his box with a tip of his hat to the clerk, and talked over his shoulder. "Coming, Ray?"

Ray didn't have to think twice.

"You know where the shooting range is, Benton. Why don't I run you two out there so you can test out the rifles?"

Fraser hefted one of the guns over his shoulder and shook his head. "That won't be necessary, Alan, but thank you. We appreciate you going to the trouble of getting the proper paper work lined up and for loaning us your rifles during our stay."

"Yeah, Alan, we appreciate that."

McClain nodded, avoiding Ray's eyes and keeping his attention trained on Fraser. "It was no trouble at all. You know all you have to do is ask, Benton. I owe you."

"We've had this discussion before, Alan. There's no need to feel obligated to me for doing my duty."

"Duty didn't require you doing what you did and I'll never forget it. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here. Thanks to you I'm still breathing. That's not something one tends to let go easily, at least I don't." Alan didn't hesitate long enough for Fraser to debate the point. "So, how are you two enjoying the cabin?"

Fraser glanced over at Ray and smiled. "It's been a bit of an adjustment, but so far we've enjoyed it immensely. Again, I have to thank you for allowing us to stay there."

The tall blond grinned, his dimples even deeper. "It's no bother. Cheri and I, we only go out in the summer. I mean, sometimes I'll go out there alone, just to get away from family life for a while, but mostly it's just empty during the winter."

Ray couldn't help himself. "That would explain the comforter then."

McClain flushed slightly. He stood straighter, his broad shoulders stretching the limits of the fitted uniform. "Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. Cheri made me take it with me last time. She said she didn't like to think of me being all alone and cold."

Fraser started talking before Ray could call his friend a liar. "Cheri doesn't mind your occasional solitary retreats? I would think with two children to care for that she'd prefer to have you home whenever you're off duty."

"Cheri's a great wife, Benton. She understands that sometimes a man just needs time on his own." McClain gave Ray a sly side glance before he continued talking directly to Fraser. "I'm surprised you haven't found a good woman yet. Lord knows there are plenty in town who'd love to make an honest man out of you and I'm sure that Chicago was no different."

Ray jumped in before Fraser could volley. "He doesn't need a good woman to make him honest, McClain. Fraser defines honest."

"Now, Ray, I'm sure Alan didn't mean to suggest that I wasn't."

"No, of course not, I just meant..."

"I know what you meant." Ray leaned in toward Fraser, his voice nearly a growl. "Can we go now?"

"Certainly, Ray." Frowning, Fraser picked up the other rifle. "Thank you again, Alan. We'll drop these back before we leave."

Alan nodded, his voice strained and nervous. "Sure, sure, no problem."

Out the door and at the car, Fraser secured the rifles in the back before he turned to Ray. "You were rude."

"So sue me."

"Ray."

"I don't want to talk about it here. Let's go get the tripod and go home, okay?"

Fraser didn't push it right away. He waited all of five steps before he started again. "He was just making conversation."

"He was rubbing it in, trying to piss me off. He knows about us, Fraser, and he still said it."

"We don't know for sure that he knows."

"Oh, he knows. Trust me on this, Fraser, he knows, and he thinks you could do better."

Fraser knew enough not to argue. Instead, he followed Ray into the photo shop, taking off his hat as soon as he entered. A booming voice greeted him. "Constable Fraser, what a sight for sore eyes. I heard you were back up this way. Good to see you survived the big city."

"It's good to see you again, Cal. How are Angela and the children?"

A wiry man in his late fifties came around the corner, smiling as he pulled out a wallet. "They're all fine. The boys are growing faster than I can keep them in skates and hockey sticks. Check out the latest."

Cal held out the pictures with pride and Fraser studied them. "You'll have your own team at this rate."

"You betcha. That's the plan anyway." Cal put his wallet away and turned his attention toward Ray. "And this must be the Yank you brought back." He held out a calloused hand. "The name's Cal Tyler. Pleased to meet you. Any friend of the Constable's is a friend of mine."

Trying his best to lose the rotten mood still lingering from McClain's comment, Ray shook his hand. "Ray Vecchio."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Vecchio."

"Actually, it's Detective Vecchio. Ray works for the Chicago Police Department."

Cal looked at Ray more carefully, his eyes narrowed and more appraising. "Tough job."

"Sometimes. Fraser helps. He's my partner."

"They let you guys do that, work together even though he's Canadian?"

"Sure. Fraser's good. We know talent when we see it."

Cal grinned. "Yeah, he is good." He turned his attention back to Fraser. "So, what do you need?"

"Ray here wanted to see about renting a tripod."

"Sure, I can do that. What kind of camera are we talking about?"

Ray told him and Cal nodded. "I've got just what you need. Give me a minute. I have to dig it out from the back. Not much call for it this time of year."

As soon as he left, Ray scanned the shop. His sight settled on a counter of art supplies. He stepped closer, running his hand over the sketchpad.

"You should buy it. You could use some of your time here to do some drawing."

"It'd just be a waste of paper."

"On the contrary, I like your work, Ray. Go ahead."

"I guess I could just get one of these little notebook thingabobbies and some pencils."

"A sound choice."

Ray got a set of regular drawing pencils and then on impulse grabbed some coloring pencils, too. He put them on the counter just as Cal returned carrying a tripod. "This should do the trick. I use this one myself. Now, keep in mind, if you've not shot anything up here in winter, you can't leave your camera mounted like you could other times. The film freezes and then you get nothing but foggy prints, that is if the shutter doesn't freeze on you first. Then you're screwed."

"What about processing? You do that here or send it out?"

"I can do it here. Twenty-four hour service and color film costs a bit extra." Cal put a small booklet on the stack of Ray's things. "This is a list of prices. Plus, I can do oversized work and mounting, too, if you're interested. I do custom framing, but that takes longer."

"Cal does excellent work, Ray. His own photography is hanging in the visitor's center and is used in some of the Canadian brochures you've seen in the Consulate. He's actually quite renowned throughout Canada."

Ray smiled and cocked his head. "So you're the one responsible for making me think that Canada was nothing but pretty."

"It is pretty. It's just sometimes people forget how damn cold pretty can get."

Fraser and Cal shared a heartfelt, Canadian chuckle and Ray just shook his head. "Okay, okay, you've got me. So, how much for all this and the rent on the tripod for two weeks?"

Cal added up the total and gave it to Ray, who awkwardly pulled out his wallet one-handed, refusing to let Fraser help, either with the payment or getting to his funds. He counted out the money and waited for his change. While Cal handed it back to him, the older man asked, "So, you like to draw in addition to taking pictures?"

"To tell the truth, this is just a trial. I haven't drawn anything since I was in high school."

"Now, Ray, that's not exactly true. You draw all the time."

"I doodle, Fraser. That's not drawing."

"Still, it's very artistic and expressive."

"Yeah, well, we'll see if you still say that after I draw you looking like Gumby a few times."

"Gumby?"

"Never mind. Grab the tripod and I'll get the bag."

"Certainly, Ray."

Cal shook his head in amusement and stepped to the door to hold it open for them as they left. "You two have a good day. Can't wait to see what you shoot, Ray, as long as it's not Fraser."

Ray laughed and headed to the car while Fraser tilted his hat in farewell and walked right behind him on the narrow part of the sidewalk, more than happy to take up the rear and sneak a peek at the view.

They made it all the way home before Fraser started. "We need to talk about what happened."

Ray put his package of art supplies on the table while Fraser put the bag of food and his box right beside it.

"What's there to talk about?"

"A great deal. There was no need for you to be rude to Alan. He is, after all, our host."

Ray didn't answer right away. He took off his coat, gloves, and hat before he sagged down on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Shivering, he pulled a wool blanket around his shoulders before he took off his boots. He brought his knees up, putting his feet on the cushion and under the cover. "Start the fire and we'll talk about it. Right now my thoughts are too cold to make any sense."

Starting the fire took several minutes. After a while, the flames put out some serious heat and Ray relaxed as Fraser took off his own coat and hat. He sighed as he sat down next to Ray. "You surprised me."

"Shouldn't have. You know I don't take shit unless I have to."

"Ray, I don't understand. What did Alan do to bring on such a hostile reaction? I was there and I didn't see it."

"That's the point, Fraser, you didn't see it. You didn't see it because you didn't want to see it, still don't want to see it. I mean, you're the guy who knows how much a pound of nails weighs on Pluto, but you've got no idea what this guy is really about. It's right under your nose, but you don't see it."

"I'll admit that you've got a much better eye for these things than I do. It still doesn't excuse rudeness, not unless you're directly challenged."

"What do you call that bit about you needing to find a good woman?"

"He was just making conversation."

Ray shook his head in frustration. "See, see, that's what I'm talking about. You don't get it. You didn't see the look he gave me right before he said it, that look that let me know he was making a point, a point that said you need to find somebody other than this loser from Chicago."

"I think you're overreacting."

"So I'm overreacting. Wouldn't be the first time. I don't like the guy and I'm not going to let him say shit like that in front of me and let him get away with it."

"Could you at least try to be civil?"

Ray's voice took on a harder edge. "Civil? You want me to be civil?"

"He is a fellow member of the service and a friend. Whether he's attracted to me isn't really important. I love you. I'd just like for our stay here to be as pleasant as possible without the strain of worrying that you're going to threaten him with bodily harm at some point."

"You don't think I could take him?"

Fraser's lips thinned into a small smile. "I'm sure you could. I've seen you both fight and, despite the obvious weight difference, there would be no contest."

"Because I fight dirty?"

"Exactly."

Still wrapped in his blanket, Ray shifted and leaned back against the corner of the sofa, keeping his eyes on Fraser. "Okay, okay, I promise to try to play nice, but if he pushes it, all bets are off."

"Understood."

"So, tell me about Mimi. What happened?"

Fraser's expression changed dramatically, frowning as he took a deep breath. "It was one of the most difficult situations I've ever encountered."

Ray sat up. He knew that had to mean a hell of a lot considering all the things Fraser had survived. "What?"

Settling back, Fraser turned his body to face Ray, his muscles tense and his voice strained. "Her husband Jerome suffered from a bipolar condition that, when treated, could be managed fairly well. Unfortunately, he often failed to take his medication and compounded the problem with drinking alcohol."

Ray didn't interrupt, just let Fraser tell the story the way he needed to tell it. "One night, January fifth, he came home inebriated. His abuse escalated to the point that he had a gun to Mimi's head. He threatened to kill them all, including their son Jeremy."

"Shit."

Fraser didn't react to the curse, just kept talking slowly, his eyes trained on the fire, but not really seeing it. "I must confess that I responded to the call truly believing that I could persuade him to hand over the gun and surrender." Fraser swallowed several times and took a deep breath. "I sometimes dream about what happened that night. I dream that I manage to get to him in time, to keep him from shooting himself in front of his wife and child, but I never do."

"You saying he shot himself?"

"Yes. There was nothing I could do. I got him to lower the gun long enough to allow Mimi and Jeremy to get behind me. I didn't, however, convince him to give me the gun."

"You did what you could. You saved Mimi and her son."

"Yes, but it's still difficult to think about what happened. I looked into his eyes, Ray, and I'd never before seen such torment. He wanted to die and sometimes I wonder if I really did everything I could have to stop it."

"What?"

"I mean, I sometimes wonder if some part of me didn't want him to find some relief."

"You really believe that, that you'd let someone shoot himself if you could do anything to stop it?"

"Usually no, but sometimes I'm not sure."

"Well, I'm sure."

"You weren't there."

"Didn't have to be. I know you." Ray put his feet on the floor and scooted closer to Fraser, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "There's no way you would've let the guy die if you could've stopped it. No way."

"I'd like to believe that."

"Believe it. Mimi was there and she believes it."

Fraser relaxed, his voice softer. "I kept expecting her to hate me, but she never did. Instead, she's only shown gratitude. She's also dedicated her life to running the cafe to help support the abuse center."

"So something good came out of it."

"Still, Jeremy saw his father kill himself. He was devastated. He refused to talk for several months afterwards."

"That's really rough stuff for a kid. So, what made him start talking again?"

"I'm not sure. I went to see him one afternoon and I was talking to him about my own experience of losing a parent."

Ray studied Fraser's sad expression, surprised by the admission. "You told him about your mom?"

"Yes. I was the same age as he was when she died. I remember feeling incredibly guilty, responsible somehow." The words choked. "I'm not sure what possessed me to tell him that. I'd never told anyone how I felt, certainly not my grandparents or father, but I told Jeremy. He took my hand and told me not to worry, that my mother was probably in the same place as his father, and that neither had to worry about feeling bad any longer."

Ray pulled Fraser into a hug, his own eyes stinging. "Oh, man, Fraser."

"Needless to say, I was quite moved by his innocence and his effort to comfort me."

"Who wouldn't be? So, was he okay after that?"

"He seemed to do very well considering the circumstances."

"What about you? Seeing a guy kill himself isn't easy."

Fraser turned his head, his face just inches from Ray's. "Have you seen it?"

"Once. This guy jumped off a roof before I could stop him. It wasn't like your situation with the wife and kid being there, but it was bad enough."

"Yes, that kind of despair is rather sobering."

"It sucks."

"Succinctly put, but I agree."

Resting his forehead against Fraser's, Ray whispered, "I'm sorry I brought all this up, but thanks for telling me."

"No, it's fine. You're part of my life now. You have a right to know about events that had an impact on me."

"I appreciate that." Ray kissed Fraser's lips briefly and pulled back, his right hand hooking the back of his neck. "Enough sad talk. You want to go to bed?"

"It's only three o'clock."

"Looks dark out to me. Makes me feel like napping."

"Napping?" Fraser smiled, finally realizing Ray's intent. "Ah, napping."

"Right. Besides, if I remember you said something earlier about proving your point about being a fun guy."

"Right you are, Ray." With that Fraser stood, pulling Ray to his feet by grabbing the front of the blanket. He leaned in and kissed him, the pressure demanding, the heat between them as real as Ray ever remembered. Fraser walked him backwards the short distance to the bed.

Sitting on the edge, Ray proceeded to strip quickly, all the while watching Fraser get undressed with record speed. Before he even had his own thermals off, Fraser stood naked, his cock already hard. Fraser helped him to finish taking off his underwear and then slipped them both under the covers, the comforter on top, trapping the rising heat.

Ray moaned as Fraser pressed against him and captured his mouth again, the kisses deep and hungry. After a few minutes of that, Fraser changed tactics, shoving Ray's legs apart. Nips and licks drove Ray crazy as Fraser used his mouth to move along his neck, down over his nipples, over his navel, and finally down to his cock. "Jesus, Fraser."

Fraser didn't bother to answer, merely increased his efforts. His mouth took Ray greedily, his tongue and lips making sure to suction exactly the way Ray liked, the way that brought him off fast and hard. Gripping the sheets, his hips lifting, Ray groaned in pleasure as Fraser sucked him. Sweat trailed down Ray's face and coated his skin as he bucked up time and time again as Fraser brought him to the edge, but wouldn't let him come.

"Fuck, Fraser. Please."

Disregarding the pleas, Fraser persisted in his torture, using his hands to stroke his thighs and belly, his mouth to ride him. Swarming with pressure, Ray cursed over and over, begging Fraser to finish. Too hot to think, too wound up to do anything but pray for release, Ray cupped Fraser's head with his right hand. The dark hair caught between his fingers as he fucked Fraser's mouth, Ray thrust even deeper. Without warning, Ray slammed upward and came, the rush flooding his body with pure heat, with pure honey-colored sprays of pleasure.

Fraser kept sucking, kept licking, and Ray whimpered as his dick delivered even more ripples of heat, spikes of ecstasy he had no right to expect. Sweet Jesus he loved this man.

The world settled from bright to hazy as Fraser stretched out over him, skin to skin, his weight solid and delicious.

Ray laughed, his throat raw and husky. "You call that fun?"

Fraser lifted his head, his eyes twinkling. "What do you call it?"

"Fanfuckingfabulous."

Kissing his nose, Fraser shook his head. "I don't believe that's a word, Ray."

"Then Webster never got a blowjob that took his fucking his head off."

"Well, there you go then. That certainly explains it."

Ray sighed deeply, well aware of Fraser's unrelieved condition. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll do you."

Suckling at Ray's neck, still hungry, still greedy, Fraser bit his skin. "I want you to make love to me, to really fuck me."

Ray hissed at the bite and then whistled as he teased, "Fuck you, huh?"

Breathy words filled his ear. "Oh, yes, Ray, I'd like that very much."

"Fanfuckingfabulous."

Ray woke to humming. He sighed and rolled on his side, watching Fraser stand in his bright red long johns and boots, heating up water at the stove. Relaxed and still a little bit sleepy, Ray enjoyed the view. Fraser's voice pleased him, the rich tenor tones smooth and yet powerful. He closed his eyes and tried to place the tune, some Christmas song, something he'd heard before. "What is that?"

The humming stopped. "What?"

"The song. It's kind of sad, but pretty. What is it?"

"'Greensleeves'". I'm glad you like it. It's one of my favorite songs, too."

"Sing it."

"I thought I was."

"You were humming."

"I didn't want to wake you."

"You didn't. Sing it for me."

Fraser smiled and proceeded to do just that, the melody even stronger now that he didn't have to worry about waking Ray. The whole cabin filled with his partner's fine voice and Ray took it all in, wondering if he might still be dreaming, might be making all this great stuff up in his head. Who in the world lived like this, tucked away in a remote cabin with a gorgeous singing Mountie all his own to make love to? It had to be a dream, had to end sometime. He hated the thought of ever having to leave and go back to that other world, that other life where life meant dealing with things he didn't want to deal with, ever.

The song stopped and Fraser stepped closer. "Ray, are you all right?"

"You sing nice."

Fraser sat on the edge of the bed, his hand on the comforter over Ray's hip. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Ray, you've got that look."

"What look?"

"That disturbed look you sometimes get."

"Disturbed, huh?"

"Does the song remind you of something unpleasant?"

Ray sighed deeply and turned on his back, his body still covered, his head propped up on a stack of pillows. "No, I like the song and the way you sing it. It's nothing like that. I just can't seem to go with the moment for long. I had it when I first woke up and then I got to thinking."

"Ah, always a dangerous plan."

Ray smiled weakly. "Yeah, I know. Anyway, I got to thinking about how good it is here, even if it is colder than any place has a right to be, and then about how hard it's going to be to go back. It's so good here, just the two of us, you singing, me being lazy, just taking time to make love and feel good again. I keep thinking it's too good, that the better it is, the harder it's going to be to go back. I know it's crazy, that I should just be glad for now, but that's what I was thinking. So, yeah, that disturbs me, the idea that we can't just stay here and live and be happy without shrinks and scumbags and all the other stuff that goes with being Vecchio when I'd rather just be me."

"I understand completely. I must confess to having similar feelings. We have a privacy here that we don't have in Chicago."

"Of course, it helps that neither of us have to go to work. I guess if we lived up here, you'd be out wandering the glacier or something."

Fraser smiled and shrugged. "That's possible, though that would more likely occur further north in one of the more isolated areas."

Ray sat up a little higher, pulling the cover up with him to keep from getting too cold. "You think when you finally come back to work up here, that's where you'd want to go, somewhere even more isolated than here?"

"I really can't say, Ray. Right now, wherever you are is fine."

"For now, but what about later? Where do you really want to end up?"

"Wherever you are, Ray."

"And I want to be where you are, too. So what I'm asking and what you're avoiding answering is where would you like that to be if you get a say in the matter?"

"Ideally?"

"That's what we're talking about, yeah."

"I like to have a posting near my father's cabin in the far north. I know that's not reasonable and it's not something I expect to happen, but ideally, yes, that's what I'd like."

"Why isn't it reasonable? They got a glut of guys who want to work out in the middle of nowhere?"

"No, but it wouldn't be fair to you."

Ray frowned and scratched his head. "Why not?"

"There aren't many employment opportunities. What would you do?"

Shaking his head, the truth of the statement sank in. "Oh. Good point. Guess they don't have much call for Chicago flatfoots in the snow."

"The best scenario to satisfy immigration would be for me to be posted to a town like Yellowknife or White Horse. There could be some security work or there's the possibility of you working as a mechanic, either in someone else's employ or in your own business."

Ray lifted his right arm and put it behind his head, relaxing even further back into the pillow. "Or I could just be a house guy. We could finish building your Dad's cabin. I could fix up the place and take care of Dief, learn to cook, build a shed, take pictures."

"Yes, you could."

Startled by the easy answer, Ray fixed his eyes on Fraser. "What?"

"Seriously, Ray. I'd have no problem with that scenario."

"Seriously? You mean, you wouldn't mind me living off you?"

"I wouldn't consider it living off me when you're spending time building our home and future."

Ray tilted his head, studying Fraser, a small smile forming. "You really see me doing that, being a homebody?"

"I don't think I would have before this, but after seeing you here, I can easily envision it."

"You're the one who has the domestic side."

Fraser grinned. "Well, I would insist on doing most of the cooking."

"No problem, and knowing you, you'd end up doing a lot of the cleaning, too."

"Possibly."

"But the rest of it, yeah, that's a nice picture. I don't see it happening, but it's not such a hard thing to think about, living out in the boonies, worrying about basics instead of city stuff that'll drive a guy crazy."

"I don't think we should eliminate the possibility completely, Ray. In fact, the more you talk about it, the more appealing it is."

"You just want to keep me barefoot and pregnant."

Keeping a straight face, Fraser shook his head. "On the contrary, Ray. Pregnancy isn't in my plans at all."

"Okay, okay, I'll buy that, but what about the barefoot part?"

Patting the bed, Fraser motioned for Ray to move to the edge. "Get up and put on your underwear. I have something for you."

"A present?"

"Yes."

"The box?"

"Indeed."

"Cool." Ray swung his legs over the side of the bed and quickly pulled on his thermal underwear bottoms and then the top. He already had his socks on, so he reached for his boots only to have Fraser move them out of his reach. "What?"

"You'll see. Now stay put."

Ray waited impatiently while Fraser retrieved the box and handed it to him before sitting back down. "I ordered these while we were still in Chicago."

"These?"

"Open the box and see."

Ray took off the lid, his eyes going wide with excitement. "Oh, my God. You didn't."

"I did."

"Mukluks!" Ray reached in and pulled out the traditional, handmade boots. He ran his hand over the smooth brown leather and darker, super soft fur. "They're beautiful."

"I took your measurements in Chicago and sent them to Ari Windwalker. They're made from moose hide for the boot itself, double layers of seal skin for the soles, and beaver fur for the cuffs. She could have done the beading if she'd had more time, but I wasn't sure if you'd want that or not."

"No, they're perfect." Ray turned and leaned in, kissing Fraser and then pulling back. "Help me put them on. I don't know if I can do the lacings one handed."

"Put your jeans on first."

"Sure, sure, that makes sense." Ray put the mukluks down just long enough to pull on his jeans and then sit down again. Fraser helped him pull on the long boots and then laced up the front of each one to right below his knees. Ray stood and shook his head as he stared down in admiration at his new footwear. "They're so warm, it's like I can feel my feet again. This is greatness. Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

Ray sat back down, his voice choked at the thought of all the planning and scheming Fraser must have done to accomplish the surprise. "I'm serious, Fraser. This was real greatness, the best."

"I was more than happy to do it, Ray. You just can't get good mukluks in Chicago." Before Ray could protest more, Fraser cupped his face. "I enjoy doing things for you, Ray. I love you." Leaning in, he kissed him tenderly and drew back. "You're a blessing in my life."

Ray couldn't speak, couldn't form words to say what his heart wanted him to say. Instead, he captured Fraser's mouth with his own and prayed one day he'd deserve the love that his partner gave him so freely.

Ray couldn't sleep, couldn't even keep his eyes shut more than a few minutes without wanting to fly out the door to go running wild in the snow. Pacing drove Fraser crazy, especially in the middle of the night, so Ray tried his best to be still, to be as quiet as he could be, which wasn't easy, not for Ray, not even on his best days.

Settled on the sofa in front of the fire, Ray poured his energy into the sketching, finding that after the first few bad attempts, things started to take shape and look more like what he wanted and less like Dief decided to take up drawing instead of chasing rabbits.

"That's not bad."

Ray glanced up and blinked several times in the low light. "You mean for a Yank?"

"For anyone. The likeness is rather uncanny."

"Thanks. He's easy to draw, easy on the eyes."

Fraser Senior stared down at the image of his son and smiled. "Just like his mother, though she usually wore clothes."

"Yeah, but I like him this way."

"Drawing nudes has its own challenges, but I must admit you have a knack." Fraser Senior moved to stand in front of the fire, holding his hands out to warm them.

"You can still feel heat when you're dead?"

"Not really, but that doesn't mean you stop missing it."

"That sucks."

"It's not so bad. One can still imagine what it was like before and sometimes the power of the mind is far greater than the reality of a situation."

Ray didn't even want to go near that serious thought, so he focused more on the lines of Fraser's thighs, shading in the hollow right at the top of his left hip.

"You've got quite an artistic talent. Why didn't you ever use it?"

Biting his lower lip, working to get the image just right, Ray shrugged. "My dad said it was for sissies. By the time I knew better, I'd moved on, started working as a cop. Didn't have time for it anymore."

"Parents can be cruel without intending to be. I'm sure your father meant well."

"I'm sure he did. Doesn't mean he was right."

"No, it doesn't." Fraser Senior paused. "This place suits you. I told Benton it would."

Ray stopped drawing and looked up. "Can the dead tell the future?"

"Not exactly the future, no."

"What's that mean, not exactly?"

"It means that there are many possible futures. No one has just one path."

"And you can see these paths, all these paths from where you are?"

"No, but I do see some of them. I can sense things, too, things I never realized when I was alive, other people's feelings. It's quite unsettling at times."

Rubbing his face, Ray tried to take that in, take in the idea that some spirit could actually see all the shit ahead, all the different ways he could go to get some place that he might not want to end up. "You guys got rules about telling people about what to do and what not to do?"

"If we do, nobody's bother to mention it. Nobody gives you a guidebook when you're dead, Son. It's like life that way. You just wander around and hope for the best."

"That doesn't seem right. Seems like you live and then you die and you ought to get something better than you had before, you know? You should at least get some kind of pay off for dying."

"It doesn't work that way."

"Then how does it work? Can't you give me some clues about what I should do to make it turn out all right? I mean, if you can see all these paths, can't you just give me a hint?"

"You're here with my son. That's a good start."

"But I can't stay here."

"Not now, no, but perhaps in the future."

"You saying that's one of my paths, one of my choices?"

"Ray, who are talking to?"

Startled, Ray turned to see Fraser sitting up in the bed, watching him with concern. "Your dad."

"My father's here?"

Ray pointed by the fireplace, but found the space empty. "Well, hell, you scared him off."

"Ray, come to bed. It's three in the morning. You haven't slept more than a few hours in the last three days."

"I'm fine. Let me finish this first."

Fraser threw off the covers, slipped on his boots and walked over to the sofa. Standing behind Ray, he looked down at the drawing. "Oh, dear."

Ray laughed and held up the pad. "You like it?"

"Well, it certainly is a good likeness."

"Yeah, you look hot."

Clearing his throat, Fraser blushed bright red. "Whatever possessed you to draw me in such a state of arousal?"

"It's a good look for you."

Fraser reached down and took the pad from Ray's hand and studied the drawing more carefully. "Despite my embarrassment at the subject, this is really quite well done, Ray."

"Thanks."

"No, I mean it. I knew you could draw, but not with this kind of proficiency."

It was Ray's turn to blush. "Thanks."

Fraser leaned over and kissed him before pulling back. "Come to bed, Ray. You need to sleep."

"I can't. I'm wide awake. I might as well use the time for something interesting instead of tossing and turning and keeping you awake."

Petting Ray's hair with affection, Fraser frowned, obviously worried. "I think your medication must have affected your sleep patterns. Ever since you finished taking the antibiotics and the Phenergan, you've been unable to rest."

"Guess I'm making up for all the time I lost when I was doped up."

"But you're supposed to be resting. I don't want you to get overly fatigued."

Ray captured Fraser's hand and drew it to his mouth. He kissed the palm lightly and shook his head. "I'm not going to get sick again, Fraser. I just get like this sometimes. It's no big deal. Go to sleep and I'll try to be quiet."

"This has happened before?"

"Lots of times. I can go days without sleep. It comes in handy on stakeouts."

"But it's not healthy, especially when you're convalescing."

"I'm beyond convalescing, Fraser. I'm good." Ray motioned with his head toward the bed. "Now go on, go back to bed."

Instead of moving toward the bed, Fraser came around and sat down next to him on the sofa. "What were you and my father talking about?"

"He liked your picture."

"Good God, you showed it to him?"

"Hey, I hate to break it to you, but he's less of a prude than you are."

"I doubt that."

"It's true."

"I'm not a prude."

"And Frannie's not Catholic." When Fraser didn't argue, Ray shifted a little closer. "It's weird, his dropping in tonight. He usually doesn't show up unless I'm in trouble."

Fraser's voice lowered, became a hush. "Yes, I know. What did he say?"

"You couldn't hear him?"

"No. Apparently, he chose to only show himself to you this time."

"Double weird. He didn't say much, just that there are no guidebooks for the dead and that there are many paths to different futures. It wasn't very helpful. I kind of hoped that when you kicked off, you got a break, you got a better idea about what it's all about."

"He tends to enjoy cryptic responses."

"He likes to mindfuck, yeah, I get that from him, but it's not like he's mean about it. It's just his way. Was he like that before he died?"

Fraser took several moments to answer. "I really couldn't say."

"Why not? He's your dad."

"Yes, but despite that, I didn't know him very well. Our relationship was very formal, rather distant. I regret we never really got to know one another as friends."

Ray put an arm around Fraser and gave him a quick hug. "Well, look at it this way, not everybody gets a second chance after the old man passes away."

"Perhaps."

"No perhaps about it. It's a good thing, this Mountie ghost thing."

"I have to confess, when I first started seeing him, I thought I was losing my mind."

"I can imagine. If I hadn't been out of my mind already, I would've thought the same thing."

"But that's the thing, Ray. The fact that you see him, too, that changes the whole situation. He's not a figment of my imagination. He's real, but in a way that makes me very uneasy. It forces me to reevaluate my whole concept of the spiritual world."

"Is that harder to do than thinking you need a padded cell?"

Fraser chuckled and turned to face Ray. "Actually, it's a relief."

"You think we'll ever get to see him at the same time? You think he could do that?"

"I know it's possible, but for whatever reason, he's chosen not to do so."

Ray settled back, drawing Fraser closer. "It's kind of neat though, thinking about him looking out for us from the other side. I'm just glad he's cool with us being together."

"Would it bother you if he weren't?"

"Hell, yes. You think I want a pissed off Mountie coming after me from the grave for sleeping with his son? No, I like your dad. He's a little odd, but fair."

"Odd?"

"Like you."

"Ah. Odd as in eccentric."

"Eccentric, Canadian, same difference."

Fraser laughed against Ray's chest. "Come to bed, Ray. I'm tired, and I must confess, I have trouble sleeping alone now."

"Spoiled?"

"Rotten."

"Sure, okay. You'll have to help me take off my mukluks."

Nuzzling his neck, Fraser whispered, "I can help you take off more than that."

Ray chuckled and let himself enjoy the moment, pushing away all the thoughts, all the worries, all the nightmares that lingered and kept him from sleeping.

"Wow, these are pretty good."

Cal Tyler smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "More than good, Ray. They're fantastic." He reached over and pulled out two of the shots from the first batch of color photographs. "Especially these. How the hell did you get those without over exposure?"

Ray studied the pictures of the eagles and grinned. "I fell on my ass and just kept shooting."

"Good job." Cal held up the one with the eagle in mid flight. "This one looks as good as any I've done. You sure you've never done this job professionally?"

Flushing with pride, Ray shook his head. "I just get lucky shots, that's all."

"It's more than that. You've got the eye. People bring film in here every day and I rarely see stuff this good. You should think about sending these off to be published."

"He's right, Ray. These are beautiful."

The awe in Fraser's voice surprised him. "You think so?"

"Yes. I like the eagles, but I especially like the series of arctic foxes right at the edge of the forest. Excellent composition and clarity."

"Well, it helps to have great stuff to look at. The little guys just looked right at me. They didn't seem scared at all."

"Which in itself is rather unusual."

"I could get more good shots if it wasn't dark here most of the time. I can only shoot a couple of hours a day and at short intervals. It gets too cold. Plus, I can use the tripod for some of the shots with the long lens, but like these of the eagles, I had to free hand it. Not easy with one hand, let me tell you."

Cal looked through the second stack of pictures and held up another one. "Bull moose. Not easy to get."

"He was just passing through. Got kind of pissed off, but didn't charge me."

Fraser nodded, frowning. "That was the morning I thought you got frostbite."

"Yeah, well, I didn't. I just can't wear gloves and take pictures."

Cal interrupted. "Look, I've got this friend who's looking for quality nature shots both for his magazine and for a book he's putting together about wildlife of Western Canada. I'd love to send him these. He pays way above the going rate, too."

Ray had to force himself to keep breathing and not lose his smile. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"Ray, this is a great opportunity."

Stunned, Ray shook his head, realizing Fraser just had a very human moment. "Fraser, think about it. Vecchio's the name of a detective, not a photographer."

Cal looked honestly puzzled, but Fraser stilled. "Ah. Understood." Fraser turned to Cal, his face suddenly neutral. "Ray's right. This wouldn't be the best time to seek publication. However, we do thank you for suggesting it and offering to help. It was very kind."

Cal looked first at Fraser and then back at Ray, confused. "I don't get it. This could be a big chance. It doesn't mean you can't do your police work, too."

"Well, it kind of does, for now anyway. That's not saying two years from now I might not change my mind." Before Cal could argue, Ray pulled out his wallet while Fraser worked at stuffing the pictures back into the folder. "Look, I need three more rolls of film. How much do I owe you?"

Cal got the film and put it on the counter. "I was kind of hoping to work out a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"I wanted to do a blow up of the eagle picture and put it on display. It'd make a great advertisement. I'll trade you the development costs and the film. Plus, you keep the rights. I just want to use it in the shop."

"My name doesn't go on it and it's a deal."

"Why don't you want your name on it?"

"I just don't. You can tell people if you want, but I just don't want anything in writing."

Fraser stayed quiet and after a few moments, Cal nodded. "Okay, sure, nothing in writing. You Yanks have curious ways."

Ray snorted. "Kettle, pot."

Looking even more baffled, Cal turned to Fraser for translation. "Ray's making reference to the old saying about the kettle calling the pot black, as if to say that Canadians are a curious lot unto ourselves."

"Ah, well, sure, that sort of makes sense." Cal smiled and shrugged. "Can't fault you for thinking that. We've all got strange ways if you look too close."

Ray didn't argue the point, didn't feel like talking about weird ways, not when he knew the real reason he couldn't publish the pictures. "Why don't I leave you the negatives and I'll pick them up when I bring the next batch of film back?"

"That's fine. Christmas is coming up, but I'll make time for anything you want to bring in. Professional courtesy."

"I'm not a professional."

"You should be." Cal held up a hand to keep Ray quiet and grinned. "I'm through with it. You don't want fame and fortune, that's up to you."

Ray picked up his film while Fraser got the package of photographs, including a whole roll of nothing but candid Fraser shots. "Thanks, Cal. It means a lot that you don't think I'm just wasting film out there."

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. Of course, you don't know me well enough to know that for sure. You might think I'm just blowing smoke, but most folks around here will tell you, I don't say stuff I don't mean. You're good. If you want to keep that to yourself, then that's up to you. None of my business. Just let me know if you change your mind. I've been around long enough to know the market and have a lot of contacts. We've been looking for fresh blood."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks." Ray turned his attention to his quiet partner. "Come on, Frase. Let's get these to the car and then I want some of that chicken over at the cafe."

"Certainly, Ray. Mimi will be glad to see you." Fraser tipped his hat to Cal. "Thank you kindly."

"You're welcome."

As soon as they were out the door, Fraser got very serious, speaking quietly as they made their way to the vehicle. "I'm sorry, Ray. I can't believe I made such a careless error."

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. If you weren't undercover, you'd have no problem sending those photographs in for publication and getting the recognition you deserve."

"But I am undercover, so let's drop it."

"But, Ray..."

"I said, drop it, Fraser. Please."

"Consider it dropped. For now."

Ray cursed under his breath and waited by the door while Fraser unlocked it. "I changed my mind. Let's just go back to the cabin."

"I thought you were hungry."

"Not hungry enough to put up with this."

"This?"

"You just waiting around to start in again."

Fraser hesitated and took a deep breath. "Very well. I'll let it drop. I won't talk about it again unless you bring it up first."

"Promise?"

"As you wish."

"Cause I got to tell you, Fraser, it's bad enough knowing that I could do something cool like that and make a living at it and have the door slammed in my face because of Vecchio. I don't need you going on like you do about it, too."

"I don't understand, Ray. How do I go on about it, as you say?"

"That way you do, that way where you just keep going, like now. Let's just go eat and don't talk about it."

"Certainly, Ray."

Dropping his forehead against the top of the car, Ray took a deep breath. "I just wish it were over, that's all."

"What?"

"This Vecchio thing. I want it to be over. I want to be me again." Fraser's unexpected hand on his shoulder surprised him and he jerked his head up. "What?"

"Ray, you are you, and this assignment won't go on indefinitely."

"I know. I just get frustrated."

Fraser touched his cheek gently. Ray leaned into the warm contact briefly, but then reluctantly pulled away. "We're in the middle of the street here, Fraser."

"Understood. Let's eat and then go home so we can touch freely."

"You really that hungry?"

Smiling, Fraser headed back toward the driver's side of the car. "Not at all."

Ray climbed in. "Home it is then."

"I miss Dief."

Fraser looked up from his copy of Shakespeare's sonnets. "As do I."

Stretched out on the sofa, his feet up in Fraser's lap, Ray stared at the fire. "Bet he doesn't miss us. Bet he and Ante are having a great time."

"Well, as you know, I'm not one for wagers, but I would imagine that after the first day or so, Diefenbaker missed us as well."

Ray turned his attention towards Fraser. "Why do you say that?"

"Francesca mentioned something about experimenting with Diefenbaker's fur to see if she could match it to Ante's."

Horrified for his wolf friend, Ray shook his head in disbelief. "Ante's a poodle for godsakes. Tell me you told her to forget about it."

"Oh, I did, but you know Francesca Vecchio as well as I do. She is a woman of steely determination."

"Poor Dief."

"Indeed."

Ray sighed, fighting off the image of Dief stuck with a ridiculous cut that would take months to grow out. How many times had he lived through that before he found Lila? Too many damn times. "We should call Frannie and make sure she's not doing anything crazy."

"Diefenbaker will be fine, Ray. Don't worry. He's lived through worse things than a bad haircut. Besides, it's possible she was just ripping my chain and had no real intention of doing such an insensitive thing."

"Ripping your chain? You mean, yanking your chain?"

"Yes, yes, yanking."

"Yeah, she's been known to do that. Let's hope that's true for Dief's sake." Before Fraser could return to reading, Ray sighed deeply again.

"What's wrong, Ray?"

"I think we need a tree."

"A tree? We have a whole forest full of trees."

Ray closed his eyes, his patience fading. "I mean, we need a Christmas tree." When Fraser didn't answer right away, Ray opened his eyes to see his partner frowning. "What? You don't like Christmas trees?"

"No, I do. I've just never really had one. We decorated bushes when I was growing up and as an adult, well, living alone, I just never could justify the expense."

Ray sat up, a little angry at the adults in Fraser's childhood. "You mean, you never had a tree, not even when you were little?"

"That was so long ago, but, no, I don't believe so. There were so many other things to do to survive, that taking time for a Christmas tree just seemed frivolous."

"Frivolous? How can a Christmas tree be frivolous? It's a Christmas tree. Jeez. It's like a symbol or something."

Fraser's sad expression softened and changed. "And a good one. I think a Christmas tree is a grand idea, Ray."

"Damn right."

"We'll cut one tomorrow at first light."

"Good, good. Great idea." Ray paused and looked around the cabin, his enthusiasm snowballing along. "We're going to need decorations. We got any popcorn and cranberries in the house? We can make the garland out of that."

"I don't believe so, but we can get those in town tomorrow."

"Maybe we should make a list of stuff that we'll need." Ray stalled and hit his head with his right fist. "Oh, shit."

"What? Ray, are you ill?"

"No, I just made a list reference. Next thing you know, I'll be talking about curling." Falling back with a belly laugh at his own joke, Ray pulled Fraser into a quick, playful kiss. "This is going to be fun. We can spend the next few days coming up with stuff to put on it. No store bought stuff, just things we get out of the woods or make ourselves, okay?"

Fraser's eyes sparkled as the holiday spirit finally seemed to take hold. "That sounds wonderful, Ray. I've got just the idea for some things I can make that should fit quite nicely."

"What things?"

"That would be telling."

Ray wrapped his arms around Fraser, who still leaned heavily against him. "What, you want to make this like a contest, see what kind of stuff we can come up with to put on the tree to surprise each other?"

"I think that sounds very entertaining."

"But hard. This is a one room cabin, Fraser. If you think I'm going to sit out in the freezing cold in the outhouse to make ornaments, then you're nuts."

"We could hang a blanket periodically to work."

"And I'd sit on one side and you the other to work at the same time. That way we could still talk to each other, but we couldn't see what the other guy was doing until we were finished and ready to put it all on the tree."

"Except for the garland, Ray. I think we should do that part together."

"Yeah, and the star. We can do that together, too."

"Star?"

"For the top?"

"I thought that was supposed to be an angel."

Ray chuckled. "We'll make an angel with a star." Then he drew Fraser down for another kiss while he thought of all the cool ways he could make nifty paper ornaments out of photographs.

The scent of pine filled the cabin as Ray jabbed his needle and thread at one hell of a stubborn cranberry. "I don't remember this being this hard to do when I was a kid."

"I would imagine you had the free use of both hands as a child."

"Oh, yeah. That's probably it." Once again, Ray tried to steady the round fruit as he stuck the needle through. He finally managed it and then put some freshly popped popcorn both on his plate and in his mouth. "I like the tree, Fraser. We did a good job picking one out. Not too big, not too small, it's just right."

"Why does that sound familiar?"

"Because I sound like Goldilocks checking out the three bears. But it's true. You did a good job setting it up, too. Me, I usually ended up with a mess when I tried to put up a live tree. Needles and bark everywhere. Believe me, Stella didn't like that much."

Very precisely, Fraser finished off another string of garland and reached for some more thread. "Did you and Stella have a tree with homemade decorations as well?"

Snorting, Ray shook his head. "You kiddin'? Stella and homemade? Not in this lifetime. If it wasn't flashy, store bought, or antique, it didn't go on the tree." Ray's voice changed slightly, more tight, a little strained. "I remember one year, I made this little blond angel, something I thought she'd like, something personal. I don't know what I was thinking."

"She didn't like it?"

"She laughed at it. She thought it was a joke."

Fraser stopped working and watched Ray, unhappy at the revelation. "That seems rather cruel even for Stella."

"Nah, not really. She just didn't get the whole sentimental thing. Romance was never her deal."

"And yet you're one of the most romantic people I've ever met. Seems an odd pairing."

"Well, it was. Guess that's why it flopped. Romance meets hardcore practical and snooty. Fails every time."

"I'm sorry."

"It's history. Sorry I brought it up. I know you hate me talking about Stella."

Fraser resumed his work on the decorations. "There are times when discussing your ex-wife is simply inappropriate, but I don't really mind if you need to talk about her in general. She was a huge part of your life for most of your life."

"Thanks." Ray paused and looked up, frustrated with the sixth kernel of corn that fell apart and refused to go on his string. "So, like when would be the times when it'd be inappropriate?"

"In bed."

"Oh, right. I get that. I'm sorry. I don't mean to do it. It just happens."

"It's all right, Ray. I understand, and you don't do it all the time."

"But I do sometimes. Just smack me a good one and I'll stop."

"I'm not going to smack you, Ray."

"Well, at least call me on it, tell me if it bothers you."

"I believe I just did."

Ray shook his head in frustration and threw down his thread. He reached for some more popcorn. "How are you getting that stuff to go on so easy? Every time I try to put the needle through, it crumbles off."

"Once again, Ray, I think it's easier with two good hands." Fraser looked up and smiled. "Perhaps if you'd simply select the bit to be attached, I'll do the manual part of the process."

"Like a team?"

"Exactly."

"Smart guy." Ray picked up a cranberry and handed it over. "So, you know what else we can do?"

"What?"

"We can cut strips of colored paper and make chains."

"Ah, that explains the red and green sheets of construction paper you purchased at the market."

Ray continued to alternate between handing Fraser his popcorn and berries with nibbling on popcorn from the bowl. Somehow it tasted a lot better than it did at home, more crunchy and less spongy. Luckily, they'd bought plenty so that he could eat all he wanted and they'd still have enough to put on the tree. "When I was a kid, it was my job to glue the strips and make the chains. Sometimes my mom would let me to draw stuff on each strip first, or sometimes, we'd put names of different people we knew. One Christmas, I think I was seven or eight, my dad was laid off. We used strips cut out from old magazines instead of regular paper. My mom told me to find the best pictures to cut out. It worked just as good."

"Your father wasn't working and you still had a tree? How could you afford it?"

Ray shrugged and picked out a bad berry before finding a good one to use. "I don't know. We just always had a tree, no matter what. I mean, I didn't get a lot of presents, but I always got something, maybe a model car or a game. One year I got my first set of tools, a whole box of wrenches just for me. And I always got oranges, nuts, and some chocolate candy in my stocking."

"Stocking?"

Ray stopped eating and frowned. "Tell me you at least had a stocking when you were a kid, at least tell me that."

Fraser didn't stop working on the garland, but shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I've heard of the custom, but never participated as such."

"As such? Damn it, Fraser, that sucks."

"It wasn't like my mother or my grandparents didn't want me to have a good Christmas, Ray. They just didn't celebrate it quite as enthusiastically as others seemed to. Things were very hard and the resources slim."

"They still could've hung a stocking, Fraser. You were only one kid." When Fraser didn't answer, Ray leaned his head on his shoulder, his voice softer. "It's okay though, because we've got a mantle and we're going to use it, a stocking for you and a stocking for me."

"I'm afraid our stockings should probably be laundered first."

"Good point."

Fraser held out a hand. "Berry, Ray?"

"Oh, sure. Sorry." Ray got back to work, handing Fraser materials and considered the situation some more. "You know there's a thrift store in town. We could go there and see if they've got an old blanket we could cut up. We could make our own stockings."

"Wouldn't that require sewing?"

"You sew. I've seen you. You cut your buttons off the uniform, polish them bright and shiny, and then sew them back on all the time, which I've been meaning to say, is really awe inspiring."

"Why thank you, Ray."

"I mean it, every time I see you do it, I wonder how many other guys would go to all that trouble just to polish a button and then I think, not a hell of a lot. But then I remember I'm talking about you, and it all makes sense."

Fraser tied off another string of garland. "I'm not quite sure how to take that."

"It's good, it's good. It just says a lot about the kind of person you are."

As he threaded another needle, Fraser prompted, "What kind of person do you think I am, Ray?"

"You're somebody who does things the right way, no shortcuts. Someone who's not afraid to do a little work, someone who does what it takes to make sure it's all good."

"You can tell all that from how I polish my buttons?"

Ray sighed and picked through the rest of the popcorn to find the fullest kernels. "It's not the buttons so much as the process. It's not about the buttons, its about what they represent."

Fraser paused. "What do you think they represent?"

"Pride, self-respect, loyalty to the service."

Putting down the string and needle, Fraser wrapped an arm around Ray's neck and drew him closer. "I never really thought about all that, Ray. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For your insight and your beautiful mind."

Ray flushed a deep red as Fraser kissed him. "Freak."

"Your freak."

"You bet."

"So, what about the stockings? You game to see what you can make with a old blanket and some thread?"

"Give me some buttons, too, and I'll see what I can do."

"Deal."

"Fraser, my mukluks are getting splinters out here."

"Sorry, Ray. I'll try to be more careful."

Ray shook his head and smiled at Fraser's rather contrite voice. "You about done yet?"

"Almost, but not quite. I might require just a bit more time to complete all the tasks."

"Sure, but it's getting lonely on this side of the curtain. I miss your face. Whose wild idea was it to do it this way?"

"Just a bit more patience, Ray. I won't be much longer."

Ray walked back to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. Fraser's time behind the blanket had gone on a lot longer than he'd expected. He'd finished making all his own ornaments over an hour ago. He'd admired the pine boughs and stockings on the mantle, paced a few hundred times, and then decided he didn't have the patience to wait much longer. He added some chocolate candy to his cup, stirred, and then sipped. Canadian coffee seemed stronger somehow, but he didn't mind. He liked the extra kick, something to help him keep away the fuzzy times when his head and body wanted to fade out and call it quits.

Settling at the table, he picked up the grocery list, admiring Fraser's neat, precise writing. "You still set on fixing a feast on Christmas Eve?"

"I thought I'd try my hand at a traditional meal this year."

"We're having goose instead of turkey?"

"Would you prefer turkey?"

"Well, we always had it, or ham, depending on what Dad brought home that year." The thought caused an unexpected pang. Frowning, he put the pad back on the table, pushing away the pain of knowing that his dad hated him for loving Fraser. Fuck that, leave it alone, he didn't want to think about his father. "It doesn't really matter what you fix, Fraser. Fix reindeer if that's what you want."

Fraser came from around the curtain, his face serious. "Ray?"

"What?"

"Does talking about your father still bother you that much?"

Ray shrugged and changed the subject. "So, you finished?"

"Yes, I believe so. Would you like me to present them to you all at once or should we alternate?"

"Well, actually, I kind of jumped the gun." Ray motioned with his head towards their tree.

Puzzled, Fraser moved closer to see the result of Ray's efforts and then laughed out loud. "Dear God, you're quite obsessed."

"And inspired."

"By what? Candid camera?"

"Hey, you have your play pretties and I have mine." Ray got up and walked with Fraser to the tree, pleased by his lover's wide smile. He touched one of his favorite pictures of Fraser leaning down to get the biscuits out of the oven. "I always thought you were well hung."

"All over the tree apparently. Ray, this is too much." But he spoke with a grin and a quiet hush as he saw shots of himself in various poses used as decorations. At the very top, Ray had made a cone of construction paper and glued a picture of Fraser standing in the snow. He stood staring straight into the camera, smiling and happy as he tipped his hat smugly at Ray. A gold star, much like an sheriff's badge, covered his Stetson.

Ray kissed his cheek. "See, we got an angel and a star."

Fraser captured his face with both hands and kissed him completely and thoroughly before pulling back. "You're unhinged."

"Yep, about you. So, what have you got to show for all your time behind the blanket, Mr. Mountie?"

"Nothing as creative as this."

"Well, don't just stand there, show me."

Quickly, Fraser retrieved a box of wooden ornaments, each one carved out of local wood. One by one, he pulled them out, naming them as he went as if Ray couldn't tell what they were. "Diefenbaker, Turtle, your GTO, my Stetson, your boots, boxing gloves, a bag of M&Ms, a pineapple pizza, an eagle, a fox, a caribou, a moose, a wolf, and a dream catcher."

Amazed, Ray picked up each of the figures, all about three to five inches tall, each one carved with such detail that he couldn't imagine how Fraser could have done them all so quickly. "My God, Fraser, these are great. This looks just like Dief and Turtle and all the rest are cool, too. Oh, man, I didn't know you could do stuff like this. I mean, yeah, I saw that statute you gave Frannie last year, but these, these are just way better, more personal."

"Thank you kindly, Ray. Each one represents something special for each of us."

"Yeah, yeah, I can see that."

"And there's one more."

Ray lifted his head from studying the group of figures and saw the last ornament in his partner's hand. "Jesus, Fraser, that's me."

"I tried for a close likeness."

"Spiky hair and all."

Reaching out, Ray took the carving and blinked several times to clear his vision. "This is too much, Fraser. Is this how you see me, like an angel?"

"You're no angel, Ray, but then neither am I."

"But you look better with the star."

"But you're the one who likes to be on top."

Ray snorted loudly and then handed the ornament back to Fraser. "You do the honors."

"I'd be happy to, Ray."

Taking his own picture down from the top of the tree and moving it to a slightly lower branch, Fraser put Ray's wooden image at the very top. He stepped back, smiling as he wrapped his arm around Ray's waist. "Excellent."

"Yeah, it is. Thanks. But you did forget one."

Fraser turned and looked curious. "Which one?"

"I want one of you."

Flushing, Fraser nodded. "I'll make one first thing tomorrow morning."

"Not tonight?"

Grinning, Fraser reached for the ornaments. "No, tonight we'll finish trimming the tree and then I think we need to discuss your obsession with Mounties."

"Not Mounties. One Mountie. And, yeah, I think that's a great idea. Hand me Turtle and you hang Dief. Then you can show me some real Canadian wood."

"Fraser, there's no need to buy such a big turkey. There's just no way we can eat it all before we leave."

"Perhaps just the breast then?"

"What about drumsticks?"

"Ah, well, then we'll try for a full bird, but of lesser size."

Ray picked up the smallest one in the case and put it in the basket. "This one's still bigger than we need, but I don't think we'll do much better. And we don't have to thaw it."

"Excellent choice, Ray. Now, what about dressing?"

"What about it?"

"Do you prefer a traditional sage recipe or one with oysters?"

"Oysters?" Ray shook his head, disgusted with the thought of slimy things showing up for Christmas Eve dinner. "No sluggy stuff."

"Sluggy stuff? Ray, oysters and slugs are both mollusks, true, but when prepared properly, oysters can be quite the delicacy."

"Then fix a batch, but you'd better not kiss me with slug on your breath."

Fraser blushed and smiled sweetly. "Understood. Sage dressing it is." As they moved to the fresh vegetable aisle, Fraser picked up some celery and then an onion, sniffing each for freshness.

Ray closed his eyes briefly, his stomach knotted and his head pounding. Christmas meals took a hell of lot of work, a lot more than he cared about doing. Hell, he didn't give a shit one way or the other as long as he had fresh coffee. Rubbing his temple with his right hand, Ray complained, "Fraser, how much more stuff do we need? We