TITLE: Date

Author/pseudonym: nancy

WARNINGS: not really other than it's m/m slash and if you're underage or not into that sort of thing, walk away. It started out angry and ended up sappy. Go figure. Oh yeah, and it's definitely an AU wherein Ray never makes it to the force after quitting college...things go from there.

Author/pseudonym: nancy

Fandom: Due South

Pairing: Ray Kowalski/Benton Fraser

Rating: R

Status: new

Archive: sure, just let me know where.

Feedback: yeahsureyoubetcha!

Series/Sequel: I don't think there will be a sequel, but ya never know!

Disclaimers: Not mine. Belong to the Pauls and Alliance Atlantis even though TNT holds the rights right now. Bastards. (TNT, not Paul Gross!!) *grin* No money in this little endeavor, unfortunately.

Note: ok. this is in response to Peja's little plot bunny attack Friday nite about a rent-boy/boy-toy. it's also my first post here so, be kind. :o) I wasn't sure how long/short the fics should be so let me
know if this length is ok, ok?

Date
by nancy

Now there was something you didn't see every day, Ray thought as he watched the bright red, uniformed Mountie enter the diner. The man was tall, dark haired and very good looking. Bright blue eyes scanned the diner's occupants as though looking for someone. For a moment, their eyes met but Ray quickly averted his gaze back to the paper on the table in front of him.

Making eye contact with a cop, even one way out of his jurisdiction, was a big no-no. They thought you were coming onto them or looking for a job; either way was a quick trip to jail and Ray was past those days. Well, for the most part. Even working the high end of the spectrum, you sometimes got caught in a snare. It wasn't very often though, and he had a good lawyer that almost always got him out of trouble.

When the red uniform stopped beside his table, Ray had no choice but to look up into those blue eyes. There was something compelling in that stare, the way the Mountie looked right at you as though he really saw you, not some high-end hooker. Of course, to look at, Ray didn't look like a high-end hooker; part of his whole setup. "What?"

"I beg your pardon but, may I join you?" the Mountie asked.

Oh no. No way was he going to get caught up in some stupid sting. "Sorry. Waitin' on someone."

"Of course." The Mountie looked around the diner, lingering for a few seconds on the large, round clock over the counter. "It's just that I thought you might like a different sort of company this evening."

Stiffening sharply, Ray asked quietly, "What do you know about it?"

Meeting his gaze once more, the Mountie said, "I know that there is more to you than meets the eye."

Defensively, Ray stood and snarled, "No there isn't. There is nothing about me that's more than what you see. Fuck off."

Fraser watched the other man stride out of the diner and sighed, thinking, `Oh dear. That could have gone better.'

He hadn't meant to offend, just offer a night of friendship instead of…well…instead of what the other man was obviously used to being offered. They were of a height but where Fraser was dark and fairly broad through the shoulder, the unknown man was slender with spiky, golden tipped hair. Where Fraser was staid and calm, the unknown man was vibrant and volatile. And those eyes. It had been those brilliant, blue-green eyes that had first caught Fraser's attention
as the unknown man had fought verbally with his…date…a few nights earlier.

It had been purely accidental that Fraser had seen anything at all. He'd been walking home along a different route than normal, with his wolf Diefenbaker, at approximately midnight on Tuesday night when shouting had caught his attention. Immediately thinking someone was in trouble, he'd headed towards the voices. Turning the corner had shown him two men arguing. Since that's all they were doing at first, Fraser held back, not wanting to intrude on what was obviously a private moment.

Then the larger man had grabbed the other and dragged him into an ally. Fraser had, of course, moved swiftly after them, fearing foul play. When he reached the edge of the corner, the two men were no longer fighting. The larger, dark haired man had the unknown man plastered against the wall and was devouring his mouth with a passion Fraser had never before witnessed. The unknown man had one leg up around the dark haired man's hip and was returning the embrace just as enthusiastically.

The streetlight had turned on unexpectedly, basking them in a kind of halo and that was when Fraser had seen the eyes. Shining with life and heat, it was like a flame Fraser needed to have contact with or die. Watching them for a few brief moments, Fraser had hardened quickly, painfully, and almost began touching himself to relieve the pressure. Something grabbed him, inside, and he wanted nothing more than to rip the gasping and shuddering dark haired man away and take his place. He hadn't, naturally.

Regaining his senses with difficulty, Fraser had left the scene to follow the man with the brilliant eyes. Just to be certain that he got home safely. That was the lie he allowed himself the first night
of watching. The second night there was no such lie as he admitted his fascination and need for this stranger. It always seemed to haunt him, this desire for lovers who lived on the dark edge of life. Most of the time he was disciplined enough to ignore his feelings and cleave to duty.

This time, like with Victoria, he felt there was no choice. He had to know more about this man, meet him…or…more.

Canvassing the street produced no results. It was five nights later and Fraser had discovered that the mysterious man had friends everywhere. None of them were giving information to Fraser; in uniform or out of it, they made him for a cop every time. They were friendlier when he was in uniform, it seemed to give them some sympathy for him; perhaps they'd worn a few odd costumes in their lives as well.

Fraser automatically followed the man, at a safe distance, of course. Halfway back to the man's apartment, he stopped and Fraser slid into the shadows. He could track a mountain lion without the animal suspecting, this shouldn't be too much more difficult. After a long pause and a look around, the man shrugged to himself and continued walking. Fraser remained in that spot a second longer, then began walking again.

When the man turned around a corner that he normally didn't, Fraser knew that somehow the man had made him and didn't make any further actions to conceal his approach. He spun towards the left, anticipating the blow but not the metal baton that delivered it. Gasping in pain, Fraser dropped to his knees, rolling away and to his feet, clutching his injured arm to his chest. Settling into a defensive posture, he waited as the other man stood there, baton held at the ready but not moving.

"You! What the fuck are you following me for?"

The flashing eyes distracted Fraser for a moment then he blurted out, "I wanted to find out your name."

Obviously the man had not been expecting that because his mouth dropped open for a second before he regained his composure. "You wanted…? What are you, a freak? You go around getting broken arms because you want to find out some whore's name?"

Flinching at the cold epitaph, Fraser shook his head. "I wanted to know your name."

Sneering, the man replied, "That's what I said."

Unable to help himself, Fraser asked, "Please…I don't mean to disturb you, and I won't bother you again after tonight but…will you tell me your name?"

Maybe it was his tone of voice, maybe it was the way Fraser tried to keep his body language open, almost submissive, but something finally seemed to get through the thick wall of defiance and callousness. The cold glare shifted, just a little, towards the warmth Fraser so desperately needed.

"Ray. Now leave me the fuck alone."

Fraser watched as Ray walked away and collapsed against the nearest wall for support. His arm was throbbing, as was his back from having hit something on his roll away from the baton, but the only thing that truly occupied his attention was the simple name he now had to go with those heated eyes. "Ray."

* * *

Ray crossed his arms over his chest to keep warm while he found out more about the insane Mountie from the night before. He really was a Mountie. That was the first thing Ray had found out because he'd moseyed up to the Canadian Consulate and staked the place out. Sure enough, the freak had come out of the Consulate all dolled up in his bizarre red uniform a couple of times, doing dry cleaning errands for someone. It didn't look as though the blow to his arm was hurting at all so either Ray was losing his touch or the guy had a serious tolerance for pain.

"So you don't know anything else about this whackjob?" Ray demanded.

Romeo shook his head. "He was asking questions about you but we didn't give him nothin' Ray, I swear."

"But he hasn't hassled you guys, right? No shake downs?" Ray asked.

Romeo snorted, dark eyes glinting with humor. "Nah. He asked me if I needed anything to eat or a place to sleep, can you believe it? Jaime said he offered him the same."

Eyeing his friend in disbelief, Ray asked, "For nothing in return?"

"Nothing. I'd already told him he wasn't getting any info about you from me but he offered anyhow. Not even a hint that he wanted a date, either," Romeo replied with a shrug. "I probably would've done him free of charge. He's a handsome bastard, isn't he?"

That, Ray had to agree with.

"So what did he want, anyhow?" Romeo asked curiously.

Frowning, Ray answered, "He wanted to know my name."

Romeo stared at him like he was crazy. "Your name? All that just to find out your name? Jesus Ray, did you cast some kind of spell over the sap or what?"

Ray shrugged. "He's a freak."

* * *

The Mountie was as good as his word. Ray didn't see hide nor hair of him over the next few days as he went from his apartment to the gym to the market to home to meet his dates. Damned thing was that he was almost looking for the man whenever he walked home late at night. When he realized that that was what he was doing, Ray mentally throttled himself and forced the thoughts away, into the darker part of his mind that didn't get looked at too often.

Jake had told him to dress extra special for tonight. A suit. Ray hated suits with a passion but he was supposed to go the extra mile for tonight's date. They were going to meet at the museum of all places. There was some kind of gala going on and it was Ray's job to look pretty and give the guy whatever he wanted. Benton Fraser. What the hell kind of name was that?

At eight thirty, Ray found out exactly what kind of name it was: Canadian. As in it had to belong to the Canadian Mountie standing in front of the museum obviously waiting for someone. Their eyes met and Ray was almost knocked out by the honest pleasure that suddenly lit the blue eyes from within. Steeling himself, Ray plastered a smile on his face and greeted, "What, my name not enough for you after all?"

Benton Fraser stiffened and for a minute it looked like he was going to bolt. Disappointment chased away the happiness in his eyes as he replied, "Not at all. I just thought you might like a night off."

Ray couldn't help the disbelief from showing. "A night off? If this is a night off, then why am I getting paid?"

Incredibly, a blush crept over the pale skin as Benton Fraser answered, "Because it was the only way I could assure myself that you would indeed take the night off. You don't have to stay here, Ray. You may leave right now if you wish. I hope…I hope that you will accompany me inside but you are under no obligation to do so. And if you do, I certainly have no ah…no desire for anything more than your company and conversation."

Was this guy for real? A blush and a declaration of honorable intentions? Okay. Now it was starting to get seriously weird. He had to make sure that this man knew what he was getting into. "You know what I do for a living."

Uncomfortably, Benton Fraser nodded.

"Say it, Mr. Fraser. Ray has sex with strangers for money. Lots of money. Ray has no intention of giving that up," Ray said.

Stiffly, Benton Fraser replied, "It's Constable Fraser and I am perfectly aware of what you do for a living. I'm not looking to `save' you, Ray. Just spend an evening in your company with no strings attached for either one of us."

Ooh. So the Mountie could get snippy, Ray thought with an inward grin. He let a little of his humor show as he said, "Just makin' sure that we're on the same page here, Constable."

After a contemplative minute or so, the Mountie nodded and said, "We are, as you say, on the same page Ray. And please, call me Fraser."

Ray smiled fully just then and said, "Fraser huh? It suits you. Well c'mon, Fraser-buddy. Let's get inside before the paintings start getting moldier than they already are."

"I can assure you that the paintings are well ventilated and…oh…you're pulling my leg," Fraser said, a smile hovering.

The smile turned to a grin as Ray returned Fraser's look. The look lasted way longer than he'd meant it to but Fraser went and did that honest pleasure thing which just got right under Ray's skin. It warmed him up from the inside, waking up all sorts of things that shouldn't get woken up in his line of work. "Yeah. Just yanking your chain. C'mon Fraser. Let's go in."

* * *

Ray turned out to be an unsurprisingly adept companion. He was charming and witty, making many humor-laced but sharply sarcastic remarks about many of the patrons at the gala. Most of the comments were rendered all the more biting by their accuracy. Fraser was also not surprised to discover himself drifting closer and closer to the vibrant man as the evening wore on. What did surprise him was that Ray didn't seem to mind, that he seemed to be enjoying Fraser's company as well.

He wanted to think that Ray truly did find his conversation interesting but had to rely on experience, which told him he was not a very interesting person. Most of his stories consisted of catching criminals with his partner Ray Vecchio or had an Innuit flavor to them. Since Ray didn't seem to be inclined towards legends and fables, and still more inclined to avoid mention of the police, there was little that Fraser could talk about except the art itself.

Towards the end of the night, Ray grasped Fraser's elbow and pulled him close to murmur in his ear, "You're just a walking encyclopedia, aren't ya Frase?"

The tone sent shivers down Fraser's back and he looked into Ray's eyes, unable to form a coherent response.

"Why Constable Fraser! How delightful to see you!"

Oh dear. Fraser turned towards the faintly shrill voice with as genuine a smile on his face as he could manage for Mrs. Gallins. She was one of the leading patrons of the museum and took no pains to hide the fact that she wanted Fraser…preferably nude and on a silver platter, Fraser was sure. Though quite pretty with thick blond hair and a fit body, there was something about her eyes that reminded Fraser of gray clouds about to drop a blizzard of snow on the world. "Mrs. Gallins, how lovely to see you as well. This is my friend, Ray. Ray, this is Mrs. Gallins the Vice President of the fundraising committee for the museum."

Mrs. Gallins' cool gray eyes looked Ray over for a minute then dismissed him. Fraser could see that went over like a lead balloon and tried to search for a quick and neutral topic. "How is the
fundraising going?"

"Oh it's going just splendidly! Even better now that you're here," the socialite replied coyly.

"Benton always makes a party more interesting just by being there," Ray said, slipping his hand around Fraser's elbow and hitching closer. Looking at Fraser as though they were the only two people in the room, he added, "Don't you, Benton?"

Fraser swallowed heavily, his body suddenly reminding him exactly what he'd gone without for the last two years. The depths of Ray's eyes were like pools to drown in and it took a long time to remember that a question had been asked. Pulling himself together, Fraser stammered, "I'm sorry, what was the question?"

Ray chuckled warmly then looked away, towards Mrs. Gallins and said, "I think I know your husband."

Fearing that Ray was about to make some kind of remark regarding the sexual habits of Mr. Gallins, Fraser said hastily, "I think I see my commanding officer, if you'll excuse us? Lovely gala, Mrs. Gallins, have a good evening."

Fraser didn't miss the narrowing of Mrs. Gallins' eyes as he moved Ray away from potential danger.

"Fuck, Fraser, that bitch was all over you like a cheap suit!" Ray hissed.

"Language, Ray," Fraser murmured absently, looking for somewhere they could unobtrusively stay until Mrs. Gallins continued to mingle. He found a secluded alcove and steered Ray towards it. When he actually looked at Ray, Fraser found an odd expression on the other man's face. "What? I'm sorry about dragging you away like that but I…"

"No," Ray interrupted, stopping him with a finger over Fraser's lips. Wonder touched his voice as he continued, "You really are a Boy Scout, aren't you?"

Surprised, Fraser shook his head. Reaching up to pull Ray's finger from his lips, though he desperately wanted it to stay there, Fraser said, "I have never belonged to the Boy Scouts, Ray. While it is an international organization, there weren't enough boys where I grew up to…"

Ray stopped him from speaking again. This time it was by locking their lips together and slipping his tongue inside Fraser's mouth. Freezing in shock, Fraser was unable to do anything, unable to even move during the kiss. Well, it would have been a kiss if he'd been able to respond. After several seconds, Ray pulled back, flushing with embarrassment and turning away.

Ray thumped his head against the nearest wall and muttered, "I'm such a moron. God, Fraser, I'm sorry. I guess you really did just want to be friends. In my line of work, I think everyone's got an interior motive and all that shit."

Before he could lose his nerve, Fraser wrapped his arms around Ray's chest from behind and pressed his lips to the back of Ray's neck. He smelled good; the hint of sweat mixing with something sharp, spicy, and Fraser breathed him in before licking a path to Ray's ear and nibbling on the lobe. "It's ulterior motive and while mine is a good one, I do still have one."

Shifting in his arms but not breaking the embrace, Ray faced him, his expression unreadable. "What's your motive Fraser?"

Searching the eyes that now resembled ocean water under an ice field, Fraser took the leap of faith. "I love you."

* * *

Not what he wanted to hear. Definitely not. Shaking his head in denial, he returned Fraser's stare and exclaimed, "You don't even know me!"

"I do. I know you're a good man. I know that you lead a hard life and deserve so much more. I know that you're honorable and loyal. And I know that I love you," Fraser said firmly.

Swallowing heavily, Ray demanded, "How do you know that? We've talked exactly twice, and this is the second time."

Fraser cupped his face and said, "I spent five days trying to find out about you, Ray. No one would talk. That means they either fear you or they love you. Since these are men and women who have little to lose, protecting someone they love is something they would do their utmost to accomplish."

"Consider the source, Fraser," Ray said flatly. "Hookers and druggies and rent-boys."

"All good people," Fraser countered. "What you do for a living doesn't make up who you are. I suspect that you do your best to protect them, have probably intervened physically a number of times and saved quite a few lives over the years, at your own expense."

How did this man see so far into him? Ray thought miserably. It wasn't right! How cruel could Fate be to send him this incredible man when there was no way they could have a life together? A complete and utterly cruel bitch, Ray thought with a sigh. He leaned forward, his head on Fraser's shoulder, and breathed in the Mountie. He smelled good; like leather and clean wool and cotton, even without the uniform. Finally he muttered, "Someone had to do it."

Fraser's arms tightened around him. "Like I said. You're a good man, Ray. I don't pretend to understand why I feel this way but I do. I love you."

Raising his head at that, Ray insisted, "You can't, Fraser. I am no good for someone like you. I'm a high-class rent-boy and you deserve so much better than that. You're Dudley Do-Right for Christ's sake!"

Fraser's mouth locked onto his and the sheer suction power rendered Ray speechless. When the tongue pushed into his mouth, all he could do was hang on for the ride as heat slammed through his body. He vaguely felt the wall meet his back but he was too busy hanging on for dear life as Fraser devoured him. There was no other word for it. Ray not only felt Fraser's need but met it head on with his own.

This was what he'd been waiting for. He knew it without knowing how or caring why he knew it. This man, holding him, kissing him as though his life depended on it. Fuck the rest of the world, they would make it work.

* * *

Fraser felt the instant that Ray surrendered to him and immediately gentled the kiss, trying to convey his love, not just his desire. He must have succeeded because the death grip Ray had on his jacket loosened somewhat and Ray's lips slowed as well. They became aware of their surroundings at just about the same moment and their eyes met with equal humor.

"What say we take this party on the road?" Ray murmured.

Fraser stole another, lingering kiss then nodded. They took a moment longer to straighten out their clothing and calm down before heading into the crowd. The cold air outside the museum cut through the heavy fog swirling around Fraser's brain. Looking seriously at Ray, he asked, "Did you want to retrieve anything from your apartment?"

* * *

Ray looked back at Fraser, knowing exactly what Fraser was saying…no…what he was asking. Fraser wanted Ray to come with him. Leave his life and make a new one with the Mountie, wherever that might end up. Probably in fucking Canada, in the middle of the Great North White.
Fear gripped him for a split second. It might not be much of a life, but it was his. He'd done pretty well, all things considered. He was healthy, clean, had some money to burn and good-looking men to play with whenever he wanted.

And whenever he didn't want, his brain reminded him. Okay. So that part sucked. But still, it was all he knew. Could he give it up when people were still depending on him? Ray recognized that for the crock it was almost right away. Jaime and Romeo would kill him for even hesitating. So would everyone else.

Battering the fear away with a mental 2x4, Ray nodded and took the hand that Fraser was holding out. His voice a little shaky, Ray smiled and said, "You sure know how to sweep a guy off his feet, Fraser, you know that?"

Fraser drew him close, obviously not caring who saw them, and murmured, "Don't you know Ray? A Mountie always gets his man."

Somehow, at least with this particular Mountie, Ray was positive that was always the case. And right now, it was the best thing to happen to him in a long time.

END