The little boy sat in the middle of the front bench seat of the green car. The car was older than him, much older his father had told him one day and his daddy had smiled and said the car was a classic, a prized classic.

The boy looked up at his daddy. There were tears on his face again. He took his daddy's hand in his, patting the long, slender fingers. Pretty soon his father who was driving the green car, would notice the quiet sobs, would glance over to his right and see the tears then he'd slow the car down and pull off the road. Yesterday it happened a lot. They'd stop and both hold Daddy, hug him while he cried. It helped. It was part of the grieving process his father explained to him.

After a few minutes the boy saw the speedometer indicator drift slowly to the left. They were stopping again. Daddy was crying hard now. Fraser squeezed his daddy's hand while his father got out and came around to the passenger door. The man opened it and squatted in the few  drifts of snow that dotted the parking lot of the little road-side diner.

"Ray, Ray, please. Look at me," Ben pleaded. "Listen to me. We're here with you. Fraser's right here with you. I'm here. See?"

The boy shook his head at his father who kept trying to reason with his daddy. It just wasn't working, all this logical talk. He should just quit. "Daddy needs some sleep. How much longer 'till we get to a motel?"

"We've only been on the road for three hours, Fraser. We'll not make significant progress at this rate," Ben said reluctantly, his voice trailed off. A look of consternation shone in his six-year-old's face. The boy's blue eyes blazed at his father. Ben rubbed his hands down his face. "How about we take a lunch break?"

Fraser unbuckled his seat belt and got on his knees. He took his daddy's face between his hands and tried to look in his green eyes. "Daddy? Are you hungry? We could order you some pancakes. Would you please come in the restaurant and eat with us?"

Ray wiped at his face, leaving damp spots on his sleeve. "What? Eat pancakes? Honey, it's the middle of the afternoon. You want breakfast?" He cleared his throat and kissed the boy's forehead.

"Ray?" Benton stroked his lover's right arm. "Fraser's hungry. Growing boys are always hungry."

The little boy didn't give his father a reproachful look this time. He knew his father was trying to talk to fill the awkward silences that stretched between the two men so often over the last few weeks since Caroline came into their lives. This move to Canada was supposed to help Daddy. He wouldn't go to the cemetery every day once they were in Ottawa. "I'm hungry," he said, bolstering his father's little white lie.

"Sure you are, kiddo. Lets get you some pancakes, okay?"

Ben gave Ray's right hand a squeeze and leaned into the car. The two men kissed briefly then Ben wiped at Ray's wet cheeks. He made a tisking noise, fished a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped the man's face again. This time he seemed satisfied with the job.

The little boy held onto his daddy as his father escorted then inside the diner. The place had only one row of tables against the window but it had round stools along a long, low counter. He eyed the stools and though of how much fun it would be to spin on one.

"Benny, this is the place, can you believe it?"

They stood just inside the door, staring around. Ben slid his left arm down from Ray's waist to loosely hold his hand. "What place?"

"Were we stopped with Ian McDonald. I can't believe we ended up back here."

"Ah. Shall we take a booth?" Ben pointed to one of the three empty booths to their left, the same one they'd occupied so long ago.

Fraser released his daddy and bounded into the bench seat facing the door, occupying the center of it on his knees and propped on his elbows. He peered out the window to see his wolf in the car then glanced around inside the little diner, inspecting everything as quickly as he could.

With a hand on the man's back Ben ushered Ray after their son, directing him into the seat opposite Fraser and sliding in beside him. The Mountie laid his left arm along the seat back, his hand cupping Ray's left shoulder.

"Benny," Ray whispered. He leaned back, nudging Fraser's arm with his back and shook his head.

The Mountie pulled his arm down and laid his hands in his lap. He glanced around quickly.

Fraser stared at his Dad's blue eyes then looked at his daddy. Why would he push Dad away like that? He needed lots of holding lately. Granma had told him so, explaining that it would help Daddy get over Caroline's death.

Soon a waitress approached the table. She held three menus in her hands and leaned down to peer into the two men's faces. "You're little one need a lot of room?"

Fraser smiled up at her. "I don't need so much. I'm not all that big. I'm six years old and we're going to Ottawa. Do you know where that is? It's in Canada. Daddy says the toilets in Canada have terrible toilet paper because they're afraid of pollution you get from bleaching paper white."

"Fraser," Benton admonished.

"Hmm," the waitress said noncommittally. She laid down the menus and sauntered off to see to the customers at the counter. The place was getting busier by the second.

Ray stared down at his closed menu. The little boy flipped it open for him then read some of the items off upside down. "You want pancakes, Daddy? With strawberries or something?"

Ray took a few shallow breaths but a sob tore from his throat. Fraser pressed the handkerchief in his hand and his left arm went back up around his shoulders. Ray wiped at his eyes and blew his nose. Then he cleared his throat. "I'm not very hungry. You wanna see if they got those little pancakes? The silver dollar size?"

The boy smiled and laid half on the table to reach his daddy. He patted his hand. "I'll eat some if you will."

Ray smiled. "Deal."

The waitress returned, smiling down at the boy. "You ready to order?"

"Yeah. Daddy and me want to share silver dollar pancakes. Do you have those, please?"

"Sure do." She jotted on her order pad. "and you, sir?" She looked at Ray.

"I ordered for him, thank you kindly. Dad, what do you want? Did you decide yet? I want milk to drink but my daddy will want coffee."

The waitress wrinkled her forehead and tapped her pen on her pad. "What do you need?"

Benton looked up into her face and smiled. "I'll have hot tea and a short stack, please."

She made more notes on her pad then scooped up the menus. "He looks like you," she said as she left.

"Benny, maybe you should sit on the other side by Fraser."

"No," the boy objected. "I *always* get my own bench at home." He glared up at Ben. "You said things weren't going to be all that different in Canada. You said we could still be a family just like in Chicago. Don't I get my own bench in restaurants in Canada?"

Benton rubbed at his face again, exhaustion etched clearly in the lines around his eyes. "Yes. It will be the same in Ottawa. That's a big city, progressive. But son..."

Ray elbowed him and Benton cut off his words as the waitress appeared and set their drink orders on the table. She glared at the dark haired man and he smiled wanly at her. "Thank you kindly."

She left.

"Benny--"

"Fraser, I think it would be a good idea if you sat over here with Ray. I'd like to see the door . . . and it would be easier for you two to share your pancakes." He rose and slid his tea over and moved the glass of milk to its place.

The little boy slid off the bench seat and moved to the other side. He couldn't see well out the window from over here. He glared across at his father but the man wasn't looking at him. Fraser twisted around in his seat to see what his father was trying so hard not to look at. Their waitress was whispering with two men seated at the counter. One of them glanced toward Fraser. He started to wave but his daddy turned him back around.

"Benny?" Ray snuggled the little boy close.

Fraser tried not to wriggle. Granma said Daddy needed lots of hugs but he really wanted to look at those men again. They looked mad at something. Maybe if he smiled at them they'd smile too.

"It'll be all right," the Mountie said. He reached across the table, keeping his hand low and touched Ray's arm. "They look like truckers, probably anxious to get on their way again."

Silently Ray nodded. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall to his left, relaxing his hold on his son.

Fraser scrambled up on his knees again and started to turn around. His daddy's firm hold returned. "What? I wasn't going to do anything rude. I was just going to look around. I promise I won't stare."

"It's not necessary for you to exercise your skills of observation in their direction." Ben reached his other hand across the table and took Ray's left hand between his own. "Those gentlemen seem nervous so it's only polite for us to give them some privacy."

"He means mind your own business," Ray added with a smile as he glanced down at the little boy.

Fraser rolled his bottom lip out and glared at both the men. They sure were acting peculiar. "Did you know that little Tony says weird is better to say than peculiar? And stupid is more commonly acceptable than unintelligent? Do you agree with him, Dad?"

The waitress appeared at the end of his question, her hands laded with white plates covered in pancakes. She balanced syrup dispensers and small dishes of butter.

Ben jerked his hands back from his hold on Ray just as she set the first plate down with a loud bang.

Fraser flinched and almost yelped as Ray jerked him close with his right arm.

"Boy! You almost dropped that right on my dad's hands. Do you need some help?" Fraser asked, still balanced on his knees beside his daddy.

"This your father?" she asked with a tiny smile, tilting her head toward the Mountie. "You look just like him."

"Yes ma'am," Fraser answered politely, his eyes narrowing as he tried to think of why she was acting so peculiarly. So weird.

"And him?" she asked as she dropped the second plate with another bang in front of Ray. "Who's he?"

Fraser leaned against his daddy putting one arm protectively around his neck. He didn't answer her. She sounded angry, not just peculiar now.

"Miss, could we get a glass of orange juice?" Ben asked hastily.

She glared at him.

Fraser stared between the woman and his father. She looked mad at something as she marched away. Tony would have said pissed but Fraser would never say pissed because his father got all upset the one time he'd tried out the word. Daddy had laughed. The little boy grinned. His daddy needed a laugh. "She looks pissed," he announced.

Ray's eyes opened very wide and he stared down at his son. A little grin flashed across his face. "Yeah? Think so?"

"Yes, sir. But I don't know what about. These pancakes look good. Are you going to eat some? If you do I can write Granma a postcard and tell her you're doing okay. She asked me if I'd send her postcards. Daddy, do we send one to Caroline too? Do you send postcards to people who die?"

"Fraser!" Ben said harshly. "This is not the time!"

The little boy felt himself pulled into a tight hug and his daddy kissed the top of his head. Daddy was crying again. He felt the wetness of tears. Suddenly his daddy let him go because one of the big men were standing at the table. Fraser looked up at him. He needed a shave. Daddy had needed a shave for days after the baby died.

"Saw you two drive up in that old car," the stranger said. "Saw you, what you was doin' out there. Broad daylight."

"Benny, lets go."

"Sir, my family and I are trying to enjoy a short break from the road. If you have a problem," Ben paused and slid from the seat to stand facing the burly man, "then lets step away from the table and discuss it. I don't want you upsetting my son."
 

Fraser saw the man make his hands into fists and take a step back. He wished the man would leave. His daddy was breathing really peculiarly, kind of fast. Fraser was afraid he was getting ready to cry again.

The burly man's friend joined him. "That your boy? Then how come he calls your friend daddy? Huh? Maybe he ain't really your kid either. Maybe we need to call the cops, have 'em come check you two out."

Ben pulled his identification from his jacket pocket and displayed it for the two men. They backed away quickly. Fraser hugged his daddy tight, patting his shoulders. "It's okay," he whispered. "They're leaving. See? Don't cry. Please, don't cry."

As his father slid back into the bench seat the men left. Fraser watched through the window as they walked by the green car. Diefenbaker stared out the open car window at them. "Is Dief growling at them, do you think?"

"Probably," Ray murmured and kissed his son's forehead. "You want a pancake?"

Fraser picked one of the small pancakes up with his fingers and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth. As he chewed he speared another with a fork and held it out to is daddy. After a moment his daddy ate it and Fraser smiled in satisfaction.

Ray chewed quickly then swallowed the dry bit of food. "Let's go. We can get a bag to take these in and eat in the Riv."

"Yes," Fraser responded with excitement. "Can I feed some to Dief? Please? He looks hungry too."

They left quickly with a white bag containing unbuttered pancakes. As he walked out between his two dads Fraser smiled at the waitress. She glared at him and muttered. His eyes got wide and round as he recognized the words she said. Little Tony had said that about his father the first time he'd met his cousin. It had been bad. Daddy had almost gotten in a fight with Aunt Maria about it. Fraser looked up at his father then took the somber man's hand to comfort him. People sure said bad things about Canadians.

They stopped at a hotel way before dark because Daddy kept breathing quick and Fraser and his father both knew it was because daddy was trying not to cry about the baby again. It was supposed to be good for him to leave Chicago. Even Granma said so just before they left. Things in Canada wouldn't remind him so much of Caroline.

Fraser stood at the window of the small motel room staring out into the growing evening, Dief laying at his feet. His daddy and his father were behind him, sitting on the edge of the bed. Daddy just didn't seem to be able to stop crying today. The drive north wasn't working right. He tried not to listen, to eavesdrop on what his father was saying.

"...Ottawa in two days. Ray, we could turn back, get my transfer canceled."

"No, Benny," Ray whispered. "I'll be all right. It was just rough today. First that jerk at the gas station, then the diner. It was just hard today."

The wolf shifted, finding a more comfortable spot and Fraser smiled down at him. No romping outside for him tonight. The hotel was too near the highway. Crossing the Canadian border today had been fun. He turned around. His dads were kissing. Now was not the time to talk about crossing the border and how exciting it was. He returned to staring out the window. People thought it was wrong, him having two dads. That's what the angry men were talking about in the restaurant. Those words Tony Junior had said the first time they met, Fraser remembered them. He mouthed them silently, seeing how they fit on his lips. He shrugged. They didn't mean anything to him. He glanced back at his father. Did he look like a fairy? Fraser swallowed. He hoped not. He didn't want his father being in danger because he looked different.

And his daddy? He glanced over his shoulder again. Ray looked sad. Fraser turned back to the window again. He missed his little sister too. She didn't do much but she'd been interesting. He frowned when he heard his daddy crying again. Maybe if people would just have left them alone today, maybe daddy wouldn't be so upset tonight. Fraser felt tired. What had the man at the gas station said? Why had he upset Daddy? Fraser sighed. He was tired but he didn't want to lay down yet.

"Hey kiddo, time for a bath. You wanna take some toys in with you?"

"A boat maybe," Fraser said as he took one last look out the window. Canada didn't look any different than Illinois.

Daddy rinsed out the hotel tub and filled it as Fraser got the boat from his suitcase. His father stopped him on the way to the bathroom and gave him a solemn kiss. Fraser returned it then on an impulse dropped his boat and threw his arms around his father's neck, hugging him hard. "Is it the red tunic, Dad?"

"What?" Ben asked, smiling as he was released.

"Is that why my cousin, Tony thought you were a fairy?"

His dad squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. "No. That's one of the hurtful slang terms that refer to two men who live as spouses."

"Oh. Okay. Is that what the men were angry about today?"

"Yes," Ben answered solemnly. "We've discussed this before, the different way in which your daddy and I live. It's different than most people, right?"

"Yes. Most people live like Aunt Maria and Uncle Tony. I know."

"Fine. Do you have any more questions?"

"No, sir. Except . . . Will you get to hold hands with Daddy in Ottawa?"

"Yes."

"Good. I don't think this was a good day for him."

"Hey kiddo," Ray called from the bathroom. "Time to get all wrinkled."

Fraser scooped up his boat and ran to the bathroom.

Ray came out, pulling the door closed behind him. "I dumped in some cups and that wind up paddle wheel thing. We've got a good half hour before he's wrinkled enough to even consider getting out."

Halfway between the room's second bed and the bathroom Ben met his lover, pulling the man into his embrace. "And just what did you have in mind for the next half hour?"

The Italian kissed his lover's throat and chuckled. "Proving a few people right. I'm a cock sucker."

"Ray, don't." Ben shook his head. "It's not funny. It's hurtful."

"No, Benny. No. It can't hurt me, those words. They don't know--"

"I won't have it!" Ben squeezed him tight. "I won't have you putting on this brave act for me. It hurts."

After a long moment of silence Ray sighed. "Yeah. But I love you. I'm not gonna stop loving you no matter what." Ray pushed his lover back onto the bed draping himself over the man, running his hands down hard planes of muscles, feeling corded tendons and solid bulk beneath him. He drew in the strong male scent of the man, pausing on his exploration to lick and nip at neck and ears.

Ben pushed Ray onto his back and straddled him. Mindful of the consistent noise from the bathroom he stripped his lover and began planting kisses all over his torso.

"Shit!" Ray exclaimed. "Curtains!" He pushed Ben up and toward the window.

Ben jerked the curtains closed at the same time he checked to make sure the parking lot outside was vacant. It was way too early for the highway travelers to be stopping. They'd made terrible progress on the trip so far. On his hasty return to the bed Ben shed his clothing. He tumbled back down on his lover and instantly moved against him. It was hot and fast and had an undercurrent of desperation, their love making.

Ray lay on his back, his legs wide to receive his lover and again he stopped him. This time he asked for a kiss. He silently licked his lips, staring up with his eyes intent, meeting Benny's hungry gaze with one just as intense. The Mountie slowly came down on him, touching his lips with his own, then parting them, teasing inside with his tongue, then plunging in. Ray groaned under the onslaught, his hips thrusting up to meet Benny now.

With a little shift of his body Ben entered his lover, his push smooth and strong as he glided into the body that had accepted him for years. They moved together as one, giving and drawing strength, sharing and generating love. Ben set a fast pace, intending to complete the act before the noises from the bathroom could change. He succeeded, driving his lover to orgasm, pumping onto him, pumping his cock with one hand and Ray was groaning in hot pleasure as he spilled his white seed on Ben's hand

Seconds later Ben felt the tightness, the inner itch of orgasm and he came in Ray. He collapsed down on the man and sighed against his neck.

"I've always had the most obscene fascination with your neck, Ray," he panted out the words.

"You what?" Ray asked, his voice high as he giggled. "Benny, sometimes you say the most outlandish things. And I didn't get to suck you off."

"Me? Ray, I'm the picture of verbal decorum in comparison--"

Both men jerked up from the bed, scrambling into their clothes as Fraser called out that he couldn't reach the towels.

Ray buttoned his slacks and pulled his shirt back on. "Hang on, kiddo. Don't you try climbing on anything. I'll come in and get you a towel."

Ben got dressed first and grinned at his lover as he stepped around him and entered the bathroom. The Mountie was back almost instantly, assisting with the Italian's buttons.

"Hey. Don't do too many of them. I'm gonna take a shower as soon as the kiddo is out."

"I'll join you," Ben said with a broader grin.

"Then I'm gonna make good on it." Ray jabbed a finger against Ben's chest. "And you can't do a thing to stop me, lover."

"What?"

"That word," Ray said with a wicked grin.

"I'm tired," Fraser tried not to whine but he knew it came out that way. They'd slept late that morning and his father complained about their continued lack of progress on the trip. Fraser just wanted out of the car for a while. So did their wolf. "Dief's tired too. And he's got to go to the bathroom, Dad. See how he's pacing?" When the driver didn't heed his words Fraser switched tactics. "Daddy, Dief's gonna go on your upholstery," Fraser tried.

That tactic worked perfectly. Ray suggested they stop at a bed and breakfast he'd seen a roadside sign for. The place served lunch and would probably have a yard Fraser could play in for a while.

It was hard to contain his excitement as his father exited the highway and drove down a narrow road to the big white house. It was old. "Is this place older than our car?"

Ben laughed. Ray glared at the Mountie for a second then he laughed too. "We judge everything by whether it's older than the Riv?"

"Yes sir," Fraser answered truthfully. His father parked between two other cars in the little parking lot. The boy scrambled out behind his daddy and took off running across the green winter grass of the front yard. A swing set was visible at the side of the house. Dief loped after the boy.

"Fraser," Ben called. "Lets go inside first and see about some lunch."

Reluctantly Fraser turned back to his father. As his father reached for his daddy's hand his daddy stepped away and shook his head, glancing toward the windows of the bed and breakfast. Fraser scooted between them and took his father's outstretched hand.

"I love you, Dad."

The Mountie looked troubled for a moment then smiled at him. They went inside the old white house. It looked a lot like the family house in Chicago on the inside. The floors didn't have carpets like their old apartment did. But the best thing was this place had a big staircase with a wooden banister just like the one at the house. He grinned and thought about the time he and his cousin had spent a half hour sliding down it while Granma napped.

A guy with red hair met them inside the entry hall and Fraser stared at the banister when his father tugged him along to the dining room. As he lost sight of the stair case he noticed the big dining room had only four small tables in it. One table was occupied by an old couple. But the room also had a wall of windows that looked out onto the side yard.

The swing set was out there. He sighed and sat in the chair his father showed him to. The grown-ups kept talking and he looked through the windows for Dief. The wolf was marking trees in the woods next to the road. Fraser smiled and took the little hand lettered menu he was offered by the guy with red hair.

". . . and hot-dogs if the young man would care for them?"

Fraser felt his dad tap on his shoulder. He looked up and realized the waiter guy was waiting for him to order lunch. "Yes sir. I'll have a hot dog. Thank you. Daddy, can I go outside until my food is ready?"

Ray pushed the hair from his forehead. "In a bit maybe."

The boy sagged down in his chair as the red haired guy chatted on with his dads. Traveling was miserable. His body felt lumpy and tired and too full of energy. "Dad, can I go check on Dief?" he interrupted Ben, tugging on his sleeve.

His father laid a heavy hand on his shoulder, stilling him instantly. The grown-ups didn't talk any more for a long time. Fraser frowned and looked from his father to his daddy. Something was really wrong. Were they going to get mad at him for asking to go out too much? Or was this that two father thing again?

The red haired man excused himself to get their food.

"Benny, maybe we should just--"

"No." Ben interrupted him. "I'm tired too, Ray. Ottawa is only a six hour drive beyond here. We'll make it by dark if we eat lunch quickly and get back on the road. If we leave and go looking for another place I fear we'll be spending another night on the road. I'd rather not do that. I'm sick of motels."

"You?" Ray asked with a little grin. "You, admitting to being sick of something? Boy, this has been a rough trip."

The red haired guy returned with another man. The new one set their drinks down. His hair was black like Dad's. The red haired guy gave them silverware then went off to give a check to the old couple and show them out the door. Fraser sipped at his water as the new man with black hair chatted with his fathers. They were talking about Ottawa. He tried to be interested but it was mostly about boring stuff. The guy lived there once and was telling Ben all about things like apartment buildings and roads to take.

Fraser stared out the window. "Daddy," he tried to whisper his interruption as he tugged on Ray's sleeve, "Can I go outside now?"

"Oh," the black haired man exclaimed. "I thought he was your son. He's got your eyes and your fair complexion." He smiled.

"I am," Fraser explained. "I have dual citizenship too. Two dads and two citizenships. Some people don't like that. Are you one of those people?"

The man took a small step back. "Uh. No. I think dual citizenship is nice."

"I meant about my having two da--"

"Fraser," Ben interrupted.

"Oh," the guy interrupted Ben. "I see. Yes I think that's nice too. You're a lucky boy to have such great dads who love you so much. Hey, Robby," he called to the red haired man who was busy clearing the other table. "Did you get to meet this little boy? He's moving to Ottawa and he's very lucky."

The red haired man came back to their table and Fraser got up on his knees to peer at the guy. "I used to live in Chicago but we're moving. We have a wolf too." Robby stepped close to the man with black hair and smiled down at him. "I have a grandmother and aunts and uncles in Chicago. And a few million cousins. My father," he touched Ben's sleeve, "likes to say there's a million of them. But he just does that to tease my daddy because his family is really large."

"Robby has a large family too. So I know how your father feels. I get overwhelmed when we visit them at Christmas each year. I had a lot of trouble remembering all their names at first."

Robby grinned and gave the man a little one-armed hug around his waist. "Don't you go believing all of Gary's stories. I have a nice medium size family. Only five sisters and three brothers. Then there's the nieces and nephews. All twelve of them," he said as he lifted his eyebrows.

"And don't forget your cousins, love." Gary leaned toward Fraser and whispered loudly, "Thirty three. I kid you not."

"Wow," Fraser said in hushed admiration. He gazed up at Robby. "Dad only has eighteen cousins on his mom's side. He has seven on his father's side. That's not as many as you have," he said as he shook his head.

A ding of a timer from the kitchen drew Gary away. Soon Fraser had his hot-dog, complete with cheese and mustard. He ate quickly as he listened to the four men chat. Robby talked as he finished clearing the other tables in the dining room. Gary finally pulled up a chair and sat at their table sipping from a cup.

"And you'd recommend we check for an apartment along the northwest edge of the city?" Ben asked.

"Yes. That area was developing quickly. You might check it out or the Gleebe. Robby and I have friends there. Once you're settled give us a call and we'll come up, introduce you around."

"We'd like that," Ray said as he reached across the table and took Ben's hand. "It's kind of daunting moving to a new city."

"I know what you mean. And you've got so many things to consider, a school for your boy, the commute to work from wherever part of the city you decide to live. You don't need the extra hassle of. . . uh . . . problem neighbors."

Robby brought Fraser another coke and pulled another chair to the table. He sat beside Gary. "So, a Mountie, eh?" he said with a grin.

"Daddy?"

Ray chuckled and looked down at his son. "Go. Just don't get out of the yard and get your coat out of the car first. Stay where I can see you from the window," he called to the boy who was halfway out of the room already.

Fraser ran down the steps and grabbed his coat from the front seat. Canada was colder than Chicago. He raced around to the swing set and called to Dief as he slid to a stop on the wide-blade green grass. The blue sky was so big. He leaned back staring up at it for a long time, trying to feel the earth turning. Dief sniffed at his knee, yapped and danced back. Fraser grinned at the wolf and took off chasing him across the yard.

After he'd worked out all of Dief's bundle of energy he climbed onto a swing and pumped himself high. The sky here really seemed a different color in Canada. He'd have to ask his father if it was. And then he'd have to check out the toilet paper here. The stuff in the hotel didn't seem any different than back home. But maybe hotels were different. Maybe they got toilet paper from one huge giant warehouse that only made toilet paper for hotels and people who lived in houses or apartments couldn't get it that's why Canadian bathrooms didn't seem different yet.

He glanced back at the house. He needed to go to the bathroom now. He bailed out of the swing at its apex and got grass stains on his knees. He brushed at them and went inside.

"Kiddo, you all right?" Ray called from the dining room.

The boy scooted in the doorway, wriggling and trying not to cross his legs. He stared at the four adults seated at the table drinking from cups. His daddy grinned at him and pointed to a doorway labeled restroom. Fraser ran to it.

As he wandered back out he carried a sample square of toilet paper for his dad and trailed a hand along the stair rails.

". . . Catholic, right?" Robby asked. "Dignity has headquarters in Ottawa on Bank Street. There's a nice sized parish, not exclusively gay. Your son will have plenty of kids to associate with in Sunday school."

"That'd be nice. I didn't even talk to our priest about helping us find a place in Ottawa."

"There's Pink Triangle Services in Ottawa too," Gary said.

Fraser peeked around the door then eyed the banister. He tucked the toilet paper in his pocket, crept up the stairs and got one leg over the rail. He lifted his foot and slid an experimental few centimeters. That was good. He grinned and slid all the way down.

"Fraser," Ray said softly from the doorway as he eyed the boy.

"Daddy," Fraser jumped down from the rail, staring guiltily up at his father. He stood perfectly still, waiting for the lecture of a life.

"It's late. Benny's decided we should spend the night here, drive on into Ottawa tomorrow morning."

Slowly a smile spread across the boy's face. It was matched by one from his daddy. This smile seemed to reach all the way inside his daddy, all the way to his heart and at that moment Fraser knew Granma and his father were right. Daddy would be okay.

"Gary and Robby have a son too. He's Tony junior's age and he'll be home from school in about five minutes. You want to introduce Dief to him when he gets here?"

"Sure! Can I wait on the swing set for him?"

"Sure," Ray said with a grin. Ben came into the hall and stood behind Ray, wrapping his arms around him and Ray sank into the embrace.

The boy raced out the door, waving to his daddy and his father. Canada was a really nice place.

Continued in Vigil: Home Fires

Write me and let me know if this story interested you.

Mitch Hudson mitch_h@hotmail.com
Member of the due South Slash Site
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Lofts/5843

Disclaimer: This story is intended for the private amusement of fans. No violation of any copyrights held by Alliance Comm., CBS, CTV, or others is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for it to be reproduced for profit. The author makes no claims on the characters or their use in the creation of this story.