Work Text:
Who the Hell You Think You Are
by Silk
"You punk! Who the hell ya think you are, coming on like that to my partner?"
"Ha!" The young blond sneered at the detective who had one hand firmly planted in the middle of his back. "The Mountie belongs to you?"
"You got a hearing problem or somethin'? Don't make me repeat myself, short stuff!"
"*I'm* short?" The perp smirked. Despite his initial desire to slap the crap out of the young man, Detective Kowalski dropped both arms to his sides. It wasn't worth losing his job over a bust that was more personal than
criminal.
It wasn't the perp's fault that Benton Fraser was a straight-laced by-the-book member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Or that Ray Kowalski was more than halfway in love with said Mountie.
"Ahhh...get going, ya moron!"
"I'm not a moron. I'm a fucking rock star, you dick." As if to drive his point home, the young man adjusted his tight black jeans, none too unobtrusively.
"Oh, yeah? What's yer name? Maybe I even heard of you," Ray said dryly.
"I'm Billy Tallent. Or...I used to be," the perp mumbled drunkenly.
"Really? So if you're *him*, how come you gotta pay for it out on the streets?"
The blond held Ray's eyes for a moment and there was a brief spark of connection that let Ray see what might have been there...once. "Nothing was ever the same, man. Not after...after..."
"After what?" Ray inquired softly.
"After J-Joe died."
"This Joe guy? How'd he die?"
Billy's eyes swam with tears and Ray was suddenly sorry he asked. "He shot himself, man. He fucking shot himself."
"So he never knew, huh?"
Billy swallowed and tried to focus his blurry eyes on the cop before him. "Knew what?"
"How much you loved him."
Billy looked stricken and swayed dangerously on his feet. "I gotta go, man. Gotta...go now."
Fraser picked that particular moment to tune into the proceedings, evidently having missed the part where Ray all but admitted that he was jealous of the perp. "Er, Ray? Ray? Ray! Ray!"
"What is it, Frase?"
"I sincerely hope that I am not trampling on tender feelings, but I feel compelled to point out that--"
"Get to the fucking point, Fraser!" Ray watched as Fraser rubbed a thumb over his left eyebrow, always a telling gesture when he was troubled.
"I do not need to be defended as though I'm not here, Ray." Ray's eyes narrowed as he took in his partner's body language. It fairly shouted that Fraser was offended.
"Lemme get this straight. You don't want me to stick up for you."
"Right, Ray."
"You want me to stand here and let this mook take a poke at you."
"If he wishes to...yes."
"What if it ain't your face he wants to poke?" Ray hated himself for forcing Fraser to confront what could very well be a less than savory truth. Reality was not really Fraser's strong suit.
"Why, what else could he--Ohhh. I see." Fraser flushed dark red and fell silent.
"Still want me to let this punk have a go at you?"
"No. No, of course not, Ray." Fraser's voice was low and husky, two things that made Ray's senses sit up and take notice. His entire body became one big goosebump.
Ray turned his attention to the perp, who seemed to be watching things with considerable interest. "You still here? Take off!"
"You should take your own advice, man, and tell him."
"Tell me what, Ray?" Fraser asked.
"Nothin', Frase. Mr. Mouth was just leaving. See? Wave bye-bye now."
When the drunk swaggered away, flicking his lighter to a beat that only he seemed to hear, Ray finally relaxed. Now he could pay attention to what really mattered.
"Fraser!"
"Yes, Ray?"
Ray tilted his head and regarded his partner affectionately. "Fraser..." he repeated, more softly this time.
"Yes, Ray?" Fraser echoed, looking slightly puzzled.
"I guess it took seeing *him* with you to make me realize what I've been missing,"
"I don't understand, Ray."
"The two of us...together."
"We *are* together, Ray. We work together."
"Forget work."
"I can't do that, Ray. I have a sworn duty to uphold the--"
Ray leaned forward and kissed him. It was a quick, chaste, pure as the Canadian snow type of kiss. But it got Fraser's attention.
"You kissed me."
"Yep."
"You *kissed* me."
"Yep again."
"You kissed *me*."
"Uh huh. Could we move on here?"
"To where?"
"It's freaking nicer *inside* the car. Or *inside* my apartment. Yours is a rattrap if I ever did see one."
"It's clean, Ray." Fraser frowned, effectively sidetracked one more time. "Dief likes it."
"Dief's a dog."
"A wolf, Ray."
"Wolf, dog, whatever. He don't have to sleep with you."
"As a matter of fact, Ray, he often does."
"Greatness. What does a guy have to do to sleep with you?"
"But why would *you* want to sleep with *me*, Ray?"
"Jeez, the wolf is smarter than you. I changed my mind, Frase. I think I'll go find that rock star and take him up on his offer."
Ray started to walk away. Suddenly Fraser regained control of his speech and said, "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't...sleep with *him*."
"You don't want me to go?"
"No, Ray." Fraser smiled, a distinct light appearing in his eyes.
"You want me to stay. With you."
"Yes, Ray."
"You got someplace for the wolf to move in?"
"I thought you *liked* Diefenbacher."
"I do. I just don't wanna sleep with him. I wanna sleep with *you*."
"You do?"
"Yeah. Crazy, huh?"
"Most assuredly."
"I love you." Once he'd said them, the words hung out there in the air, lonely and exposed, like his all too vulnerable heart.
"Thank you kindly," said Fraser, his voice breaking under the pressure of still-unexpressed emotion.
"Are you gonna let me go there by myself?" Ray asked morosely.
Fraser closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were suspiciously wet. He took a deep breath before whispering, "I love you, too, Ray."
"This is a...good thing. A real good thing," Ray whispered, his eyes flickering back and forth over Fraser's face like he thought he might disappear.
"Aren't you going to kiss me again?"
"Ya want me to?"
Fraser nodded.
"I struck ya speechless. Well, that's a first. Maybe I should--"
"Ray?"
"Yeah, Frase?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
"I can do that."
So he did.
End