Breathe Your Breath (Paths I Fear to Tread 2) Breathe Your Breath (Paths I Fear to Tread 2) by Cara Chapel Author's Website: https://www.squidge.org/~pumpkin/cara/caraindex.html Disclaimer: Owned by Alliance. Borrowed by me. I have no money, and I'm not using this to make any. These aren't the droids you're looking for. I can go about my business. Move along. Author's Notes: Dedicated to Fuzzicat: thanks for the tapes!!! Thanks to my various beta readers, Gilda Lily, Pumpkin, Anne (she of the merciless adjective-cutting implements), and Fuzzicat for plot comments, grammar suggestions, and all sorts of miscellaneous help and support. Thanks to Smitty for on-the-spot substantiation of interesting facts about leeches. All remaining inaccuracies, errors, unfollowed suggestions, and other blunders are purely the fault of the author. Story Notes: This series is based on the premise that after running away with Victoria, Fraser spent time as a male/male prostitute. The story begins a couple of hours after "Follow Without Pride" ended. Breathe Your Breath by Cara Chapel Part 2 of the "Paths I Fear to Tread" Series Dedicated to Fuzzicat: thanks for the tapes!!! Thanks to my various beta readers, Gilda Lily, Pumpkin, Anne (she of the merciless adjective-cutting implements), and Fuzzicat for plot comments, grammar suggestions, and all sorts of miscellaneous help and support. Thanks to Smitty for on-the-spot substantiation of interesting facts about leeches. All remaining inaccuracies, errors, unfollowed suggestions, and other blunders are purely the fault of the author. This story begins a couple of hours after "Follow Without Pride" ended. Ray Vecchio slept fitfully next to Benton Fraser, cramped and uncomfortable in his awkward sitting position, his upper body a little chilled by the air conditioning but his leg firmly pressed up against his friend's solid warmth. He slept deeply, exhausted by the stress of the past few days' events. Behind his closed lids, he stood in a dingy alley, one that stretched out of sight in both directions. A soiled handkerchief lay at his feet. He glanced about, trying to understand how he'd arrived here, then looked down. A dark-haired man knelt on the handkerchief before him. Ray blinked, wondering how he got there; the alley had been empty moments ago. Before he could speak, strong-fingered hands moved at the buckle of his belt, and his penis surged with an agony of lust, wanting the silky pressure of those fingertips, anticipating the clasp of a wet mouth. Ray moaned softly and shifted in his sleep, his lips moving to release an indistinguishable word that might have been a name. Ray's lashes fluttered, a minute reflection of dreaming. In his mind a warm tongue slid along the length of him, then traced the crown of his penis, tasting him with care. The mouth opened, cradling his shaft in welcoming heat as it slid down, down, down... He spasmed almost silently, the jerking motion accompanied by a tiny upward thrust of hips and a sharp scent of semen, which slowly diffused into the room. After a few moments he stirred and woke, looked into his lap with dismay, and cast a glance at the room's other occupants, both quiet at his side. Only Diefenbaker was awake to notice, blinking sleepily from where he lay keeping guard over Fraser's rest. Ray had a hazy memory of his dream, and knew he'd been dreaming of a hot mouth on his dick. Not what he'd have chosen to do after dozing off while sitting in bed next to Fraser, but a man didn't have a lot of choice in things like that. He went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off, then wandered back out into the main room in search of clean underwear. He dragged out a pair of dark blue briefs and stepped into them. He felt eyes on him in the dim light as he pulled them over his hips. When he turned, he found Fraser's face tilted in his direction, his eyes in pools of shadow, the curves of his mouth highlighted by a dim beam of moonlight streaming through the crack in the drapes. That mouth. It provoked a moment of embarrassment as he flashed back to his dream: Benny owned the perfect mouth that had sucked him there. Ray blinked nervously, then moved easily toward the bed, hiding his discomfort and guilt. It had to come from seeing Benny on his knees in that alley, servicing a john. Ray had always had the dumbest dreams; they didn't mean a damned thing other than making him squirm when he had to visit the department shrink. They didn't mean a damned thing. "You sleeping OK?" Benny nodded sleepily and rolled onto his back. Ray caught a glimpse of pale thigh in the shifting covers and felt a shocking urge to follow it with his gaze. He scruffed his hands vigorously over what was left of his hair, covering embarrassment again. Fraser moved over wordlessly and left an inviting rectangle of empty bed, eliciting a sleepy complaint from Diefenbaker. Ray's mind raced frantically, weighing his options: the harshness of rejection versus the risk of disregarding Fraser's damaged sexual boundaries versus that damned embarrassing dream versus his very real and pressing need to lie down and rest. Finally he decided Fraser wouldn't have made the offer if he didn't mean it. Turning it down would be like a slap in Benny's face, saying that Ray didn't accept or trust him anymore. Satisfied with his reasoning, he made a detour to the closet. Sure enough, extra linens. He pulled a spare blanket off the upper shelf and approached the bed. Lying down there was one thing. Climbing under the covers next to a naked Benny was another one, especially with Ray already having screwed-up dreams. He lay down awkwardly, making sure he didn't take up more than his share of the mattress, and shook out the blanket before spreading it over himself. "I don't want daylight to come," Fraser whispered as Ray stilled. Ray hesitated, testing platitudes and finding none that satisfied. Finally he turned onto his side, reaching to lay an awkward palm on Fraser's warm, smooth shoulder. "I'll be here when it does, Benny." "Ray..." Benny paused for so long that Ray thought he'd fallen asleep. "Thank you." Ray smiled in spite of himself, weariness already coaxing him toward sleep. "Get some rest, Benny." He squeezed Fraser's shoulder gently. The morning waxed toward noon before Ray stirred, sleep gradually lifting from him, leaving him afloat in perfect comfort. He was warm and snug, fitted up tightly against another body, and a warm male scent, only slightly tarnished by stale cigarette smoke, filled his nostrils. He opened his eyes to the sight of a familiar cheek and dark lashes closed in peaceful slumber. Benny. Benny was still here, Benny was with him. Benny was going to come home. Vaguely regretting the loss of comfort, Ray slipped out of the pile of rumpled bedcovers and hunted in his jacket pocket for his cellular phone. By now, the first news of Victoria Metcalfe's arrest had arrived on Lt. Welsh's desk and had time to grow stale. Only turning his phone off last night had protected their peaceful morning. He took a last look at his sleeping friend. Dief looked at him lazily, curled inside the curve of Benny's body, wearing a distinctly possessive expression. Ray decided it was better to risk waking Benny up than to be gone when he woke on his own, so he closed himself up in the bathroom with his cell phone. In minutes he was on the defensive. "Yes, sir. Yes, sir. He did, sir. Well, sir, considering that he participated in this operation in an unofficial capacity, he thought it best not to notify anyone that he'd gone undercover seeking her arrest. Yes sir, I'm aware of that. IA? I wasn't aware that IA has any jurisdiction over Canadian affairs, Lieutenant. No sir. I'm sorry, sir, but you know it isn't easy to stop Constable Fraser when his mind is made up... yes, sir. I'll get a full report ready for you within 24 hours after we get back, Lieutenant. It's four days' drive. Yes, sir, I'm aware that means I should only be arriving in Las Vegas today." Ray divided his attention between Welsh and his surroundings, listening for any sign of movement in the outer room. Maybe he should have stayed between Fraser and the door. Exasperated and impatient, he held the phone away from his ear, mouthing platitudes. "Certainly, sir. The extradition should take a few days anyway, sir. Yes. Can you have Elaine carbon copy everything to the Canadian Consulate? Yes. As soon as we can, sir." He hung up before Welsh could gather his breath to launch into a second round. Ray tried to tell himself he wasn't hurrying when he came out of the bathroom, but the flutter of relief in his stomach when he spotted Benny proved him a liar. It was immediately followed by a fast-elevator drop in the same vicinity: Benny was standing by the window, holding the drape open with one hand and gazing out over the fountains and the lake, still naked, his pale body shining in the sunlight. A few bruises and love-bites still marred his throat and torso. "Geez, Fraser, somebody'll see you." Ray kept his voice mild, proud that he'd suppressed the note of hysteria that wanted to creep in. "We gotta get dressed and be out of here by check-out time. That's one o'clock, an hour and a half. We'll get some lunch and take off." Fraser turned to face him, letting the drape fall shut. Darkening the room did little to eclipse the luminous beauty of Benny's body. He riveted his gaze on Benny's eyebrows with determination. "I overheard your conversation with Leftenant Welsh, Ray." Benny's voice was soft. "It's dishonest attempting to convince our superiors that I took the liberty of going undercover without permission." "Aw, come on, Benny..." Ray protested, blinking. "It's our best shot at getting things back to normal." Assuming, of course, that Fraser wanted to return to what had been. The thought made Ray nervous, and he started to babble. "You did finally come to your senses, and we got her. I really think we can get them to buy it. And who's it gonna hurt, huh? If you can't be a Mountie anymore, who else will catch all the criminals you would have?" He tried on a weak smile. "They won't believe the story, Ray--" "You don't know that, Benny. It's worth a shot. You've always done crazy stuff to make a bust, so I think they might buy it." Ray rummaged for fresh clothes. "We'll talk about it again before we get home, huh?" He glanced up at Fraser without thinking, then jerked his gaze back down again, flushing a little. "You haven't got anything to wear but the tux, do you." "No, Ray. I came away... rather unprepared." Benny swallowed, looking at Ray with regret-filled eyes. "I could run down to the shops and bring you back something." "The shirt and trousers from the tuxedo should suffice." Benny moved to pick up the smoke-stale clothes. "Yeah? Well, only till we get somewhere the stores don't charge fifty bucks for a T-shirt." The planes and angles of Benny's sturdy body kept catching his eyes in spite of everything. The Mountie had always been so uptight and buttoned-down. Ray had seen him in his shorts and undershirt a few times, sometimes wearing a pair of red long-johns, and even once without his shirt on, but never like this. He decided not to feel guilty because he couldn't stop looking. It was just because he needed to be sure that Benny was really here, getting ready to return to Chicago with him. It didn't have anything to do with the flawless curve of that hard-muscled hip. Turning his back resolutely, Ray chose dark navy socks to match his briefs, then a tight dark blue tank shirt. He stepped into his tan slacks, tucking in the undershirt and sliding the belt through the loops. To complete the ensemble, he pulled a loose silk shirt over the top and left it unbuttoned. It would keep off the sun. He was aware of Fraser moving about nearby, stepping into a pair of crumpled white boxers and black tuxedo trousers with a dull satin stripe down the side. Tucking in his white shirt. Combing his tousled hair with Ray's small black comb. Relieved that Fraser was covered, Ray turned to grin companionably at him. Benny hadn't put the studs in the front of his shirt, instead choosing to overlap the front flaps before tucking it into his pants and clipping on his suspenders. The unfastened shirt revealed an area of skin that first appeared a few inches above his navel and widened near his throat. Fraser was rolling the sleeves of the shirt up to his elbows. The effect was startling. He looked like an invitation to debauchery, subtly disheveled and moving with a fluid sensual awareness that Ray had never seen in him before. Yeah. Well, maybe he'd been more optimistic than realistic assuming that Benny could come back to Chicago with everything unchanged. For one thing, Francesca was going to have a foaming fit if she saw him move like that. Ray grimaced, anticipating future embarrassment on Fraser's behalf. He packed his suitcase while Benny put on his shoes and socks. He put Fraser's tuxedo jacket in his own hanger bag without asking; even if Benny didn't want to keep it he could sell it or give it to Goodwill or something. "Ready to go?" Fraser nodded and Ray gave him a grin. He called down to the front desk and asked for a valet to fetch the Riv in ten minutes, then they went down to settle the bill. "Whaddaya mean we gotta pay for the extra robe? We don't get to keep it. What kind of service is this?" Ray dickered with the clerk from force of habit, but stopped when he realized how Benny was staying close to his side. Of course Fraser wouldn't want to attract any attention from former clients. Time to get the hell out of town. Ray forked over his credit card and signed the slip. "Come on, Benny. Let's hit the open road." Ray slapped Fraser's shoulder fondly and was rewarded by a small smile and cooperation. They hit a fast food joint and then took off up I-15. After they got out of Vegas Ray relaxed and settled his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. The desert was wide and, like most old cars, the Riv tended to run a little too hot with the AC on, so they settled for 2 by 55 air conditioning... or actually, more like 2 by 90. Not much more than that; Ray wasn't really in a hurry to get home. He settled in to enjoy the constant friction of the blowing silk against his skin, the heat of the sun on his left elbow, and the feeling of freedom and detachment that came with a long straight road and too much speed. Diefenbaker sat awkwardly in Fraser's lap, alternately watching Fraser's face and poking his nose out the window. Benny spoke quietly to Diefenbaker, voice inaudible to Ray under the battering of the breeze. From the way Dief switched between listening soberly and licking Fraser's face with an expression little short of ecstasy, Ray figured Benny was making amends for having left the wolf behind. It was good not having to talk because of the wind. Ray didn't know what he would have said, had conversation been possible. His emotions chased themselves in circles as he drove, relief followed by apprehension followed by other, darker feelings and worries. Damn it. If he could have done something to spare Benny what he'd been through... As the sun sank behind them, Fraser nodded and drifted off to sleep. Ray drove onward into the night, stopping when they passed a convenient strip mall somewhere north of Salt Lake City. Ray waited patiently while Benny bought a pair of jeans and a couple of those long-sleeved cotton shirts he liked. After Benny changed, they found a restaurant where they could eat pizza in companionable silence. It wasn't good Chicago deep-dish, but it was OK. Ray loaded up on caffeine while they ate so he could cram in a few more hours' driving before they found a motel and hit the sack. After they came out of the pizza joint he noticed the gas needle was creeping low, so he topped off the Riv's tank before they got on the main road again. He rolled up the window when it got chilly and drove faster, climbing further and further into the Rockies. Fraser nodded off to sleep again, his head tipped against the side window. Halfway up a mountain, their speed dropped without warning. Ray pushed the gas pedal harder, but the car continued to roll slower and he swore, easing them off onto the margin of the road. The gas gauge read dead empty and he blinked, tapping it crossly with his fingernail. Benny blinked and stirred. "Damn thing says we're out of gas." Ray struck the steering wheel with frustration. "We must have sprung a leak or something." "We'll be fine, Ray. It's summer, and our body heat will keep the interior of the car sufficiently warm." Fraser sounded a little muzzy with sleep. The logic sounded like the Fraser Ray knew, and he relaxed. "Well, yeah, but we're out here in the middle of nowhere and I've gotta call a tow." Ray dug his cellular phone out of his pocket and dialed, then put it to his ear, punching buttons irritably. "Damn it." He climbed out of the car and moved down the road, checking every few steps. Nothing. "We're out of signal range!" he reported crossly, wandering back toward the Riv. "This is probably a protected wilderness area," Fraser stopped scratching around between his feet and sat up straight, his voice maddeningly reasonable. "The American government doesn't permit cellular phone towers to be built in nature preserves." "Yeah? Well, they ought to start. I think they'd be great for spotted owls to build nests on." Ray groused with irritation, climbing back into the car. "The spotted owls might not agree," Fraser pointed out, looking through the windshield into the night. The moon gleamed on mountain ice-caps and bathed the shoulders of the ridges in a hundred shades of velvet gray. Breathtaking beauty, even in darkness. The moment stretched between them, heavy with Fraser's melancholy. Ray could feel the tangible weight of it rendering the silence awkward between them. Dief's tail thumped gently against Ray's leg as Benny rubbed his ears. It was awkward and crowded having all three of them in the front of the car, but Ray wasn't complaining. "Somebody's bound to come along sooner or later. We can flag them down and send them to call a tow truck." He leaned back, eyes closing, and thought about trying to get some sleep while they waited for help to come along. "Ray?" Benny's voice was thoughtful. "Yeah, Benny?" Ray hoped Fraser wanted to change the subject, and he wasn't disappointed. "How long should the gas you bought have lasted?" "We coulda driven till dawn on that tank, Benny. We must have kicked up a piece of metal with the tires, and it punctured the gas tank." "What time is it now?" "Getting toward midnight." Ray yawned. "We shouldn't have come cross-country. On the Interstate, we wouldn't have to wait so long for a cop or somebody to come by and give us a lift." "And we fueled the car at approximately ten-thirty?" Fraser pondered, apparently doing math in his head. "This car has quite a large tank. That means we were losing gas at a fairly rapid rate. I think we would have heard an impact capable of causing such a large puncture." Ray opened one eye. "Yeah? So we missed it. Stuff happens." Fraser's eyes were on the rear-view mirror, scanning the hillside behind and below them. The road climbed in switchbacks, wide loops crisscrossing the ridges and valleys. Ray turned, catching a glimpse of headlights in the distance. "Don't you think that car is moving rather quickly, Ray?" Benny sounded calm but taut. "Not as fast as we were. Probably just some bunch of drunk hunters," Ray ventured. "Maybe they'll stop to help." Fraser was already out the door, Dief in tow. Ray shrugged and climbed out too. Fraser stood by the guardrail with his chin tilted back, staring into the sky. Shivering, Ray went and got his suit coat, and as an afterthought, took out Fraser's tuxedo jacket. Preoccupied, Benny ignored Ray as he draped it over his shoulders. "Fraser," Ray tried to break his concentration. "What are you thinking?" "We haven't seen any other cars on this road since we stopped. There isn't any cover where we could push the Riviera so it won't be seen." Fraser answered distractedly, checking his watch and the angle of the stars again. "There aren't any lights visible nearby, which probably means no other roads and no houses." "Benny," Ray let his tone drift into exasperation. "Last time I checked, we wanted to get help, not hide from it." "I think we may be in trouble, Ray." Fraser looked at him for a moment, expression urgent. He stuffed his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. "Let's get off the road before that car catches us." Ray blinked, but he knew better than to dismiss Benny's instincts. "Who do you think it is?" "I'm not sure." Fraser vaulted the guardrail and Dief wriggled underneath it, following him closely. "Perhaps they'll pass the car and we can return to it. If not, there's a town in the valley about fifteen miles down as the crow flies." He pointed to indicate the faraway twinkling. "This is rough country. Fifteen miles could turn into twenty or thirty before we get anywhere. And unless I miss my guess, you don't have your compass with you." "I'm used to rough country, and I can use the seasonal positions of the stars for navigation, Ray." Fraser sounded uncertain, eager and yet somehow almost afraid. What would it mean, Ray thought suddenly, if he said no and Fraser acquiesced? Fraser would think Ray didn't believe in him anymore, whether that was true or not. Ray hooked his legs over the guardrail and half-slid down the steep slope into the cover of a fir forest. "Shit!" He thumped his thigh with his fist. "I forgot my phone." "That's highly unfortunate, Ray." Fraser looked at him reproachfully. "I can already hear the car motor." His hand closed around Ray's arm, pulling him back from the edge of the woods. Leaving him concealed, Fraser crept forward, using the dense lower branches of the outer trees for cover as he looked up the hill. The glow of approaching headlights waxed along with the sound of the engine, and Ray was dismayed to realize the car was slowing. Dief growled low in his throat and Ray shushed him, stroking behind his ears. A door slammed and a body eclipsed the headlights of the stopped vehicle briefly; then Ray could hear the Riv's door open. He realized Fraser was sliding backward silently-- not a good sign. Fraser rose to his feet at Ray's side, his fingertips settling over Ray's mouth to forestall questions. "Martin," he breathed in Ray's ear. The sensation of Fraser's warm breath on Ray's cold face sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. No matter how you sliced it, that couldn't be good. Ray winced and nodded, Fraser's warm hand moving with his face. Footsteps scratching in the gravel roadside warned them, and Fraser tugged at Ray urgently. They set off down the hill, both following the ghostly shadow of Diefenbaker. Not much question of fleeing quietly; Ray wished for a second that he'd eaten more carrots when he was a kid. His night vision sucked, and the snapping and clattering of sticks under his clumsy feet sounded like small bombs going off... until the gunshots that started cracking behind gave him some unwanted perspective. They tripled their speed, scrambling downhill at a frantic pace. Ray followed Fraser and the wolf blindly, cringing at the ugly echo of each new shot as he waited for a bullet to slam into his back. The shots spaced out and stopped, and after a few minutes Ray realized they'd put a low ridge between themselves and Edwards as they ran. An obdurate stone cliff began to rise out of the mountainside to their left, dripping with water that glowed and sparkled eerily, capturing and focusing the diffused light. They paused and Fraser listened keenly. "I believe Martin punctured the gas tank while we were at supper, Ray. I remember smelling gasoline when we emerged from the restaurant, but given that we were surrounded by vehicles, I thought little of it." He sounded apologetic. "He wanted to confront us at a time and place when there would be no chance of interference." Ray shook his head, struggling to catch his breath. "You think he wants your winnings, right?" "Without a doubt. He seems to have taken advantage of the loan collectors' attention to Victoria and her arrest to make his own escape from the Bellagio. What I won would not pay off all his debts, but it would buy him the time he needs to try again." Benny wasn't even winded, damn him, though there was a faint shadow of distress in his voice. "Martin is quite proficient at eluding capture, Ray. He was never imprisoned for his part in planning the bank robbery that resulted in Victoria and Jolly's incarceration." Somehow it didn't surprise Ray that Edwards had been involved all along. He and Victoria had looked awfully tight that first morning in the Bellagio. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself-- he'd started sweating during the run, but he was getting cold now that they'd stopped. Even a summer night was chilly at this altitude. "We'd better keep moving. Martin won't give up easily." Fraser gazed into the night for a moment, then set out in a mostly downward direction. Ray kept pace with him, wishing they both had sneakers or hiking boots to wear instead of stiff leather shoes. Ray couldn't help but wonder what Fraser might be doing differently if he wasn't along for the ride. Parleying with Edwards? Giving up the money without a whimper? The point was moot. Without Ray's interference, he'd never have won it in the first place. Their climb down into the valley covered a lot of steep ground, slippery with pine needles and loose rock and drowned in deep shadow more often than not. More than once Ray nearly fell, only to be steadied by Fraser's rock-certain sense of balance. The harsh stone outcrops they occasionally had to descend abraded Ray's fingers and palms, but he didn't complain, enjoying the sight of Fraser back in his element. In spite of his melancholy, Fraser moved efficiently through the forest. As near as Ray could tell, he was judging their location by the fading stars. Then as the dawn light grew, he seemed to switch to studying the location of peaks that he'd apparently memorized before they set out. There was no further sign of Edwards, so Ray relaxed a little and did some more covert Fraser-watching. Dirty, mussed, and with fir needles clinging in his hair, Benny looked competent, almost himself again. Searching out the lay of the land, he found good places to climb down the steep spots, always staying oriented. He seemed to be mapping out some silent territory of confidence deep inside himself with an instinct as sure as a compass needle. Ray hoped Fraser was getting back in touch with the man Ray knew he still was. Maybe it was a good idea to encourage the process. "What are we gonna eat today, Benny?" Ray prodded him gruffly. "We can't keep going on empty stomachs. You gonna catch us a trout with your bare hands and start a fire with two rocks?" "Yes, Ray." Benny looked back at him, perfectly earnest, and Ray just grinned. "How far you figure we still have to go before we get into town?" "I've taken us considerably off-course, Ray." Benny hesitated. "Do you still know where we are?" "It's very likely that if we follow the stream at the bottom of this valley, it will lead down into a larger river that will eventually emerge into the town we spotted last night from the ridge. Most settlements are positioned adjacent to large sources of water. The practice aids in transportation of goods and provides other advantages, such as--" Ray interrupted impatiently. "But we've been heading uphill for the last two hours. Water doesn't run uphill, Benny." "Actually, under certain sets of circumstances, water has been known to--" Ray rolled his eyes. "You think Martin's trying to track us through the wilderness." "I think it's likely." Fraser looked away, studying a broken tree branch entirely too earnestly. "Benny..." Ray fixed him with a threatening stare, already knowing the answer. "Are we headed deeper into the mountains?" "Well, Ray..." Fraser hesitated. "Actually, we are. Yes." Ray just shook his head and kept walking. "Martin is quite desperate, and he's capable of great ruthlessness when properly motivated. It's possible that he may have telephoned for assistance and arranged for us to be met before we could ever make it into town." "Assistance." Ray shook his head. "So where are we going?" "High ground." Fraser pointed toward the snowcaps, and Ray groaned. "I think I'm going to get my next cell phone surgically attached to my hip." "Leaving it in the car was a grave tactical error." "Why are we heading for the snow, Fraser?" "That's quite simple, Ray." Fraser's eyes glowed, seeming almost feral for a moment. "I know how to survive there. Martin doesn't." Ray felt a chill raise the fine hairs on the back of his neck. "Neither do I, Benny." "I won't let you come to harm, Ray." Matter-of factly, Fraser cast his cool blue eyes up toward the tall peaks. Fair enough. Ray supposed that someone who'd survived storms in the uppermost reaches of the Yukon territory with only his coat would make easy work out of Rocky Mountain snowcaps in the summertime. "So you're that sure he's still following us?" Diefenbaker whined, trotting past them with an impatient look, and Benny glanced back the way they had come. "I am sure of it, Ray." "Then let's get going." The sun rose past noon and fell again as they made their way up the narrow river gorge, climbing in and out of folds in the land. By the time it started to sink beyond the valley at their backs, Ray could tell it would take a lot more daylight than they had left to make the trip up into the snow. Fraser finally paused next to a crevice in the mountain stone, scanning the terrain carefully, and Ray took advantage of the delay to flop onto a water-rounded rock for a moment, watching Dief pick his way across the river in their wake. "How about that trout?" "Now would be a good time to make camp," Benny agreed. "We won't be able to reach the snow line before nightfall, and Martin will seek shelter as darkness falls as well, knowing that he would miss our trail by moonlight." Ray nodded. "You're leaving a trail for him to follow, aren't you." He'd been watching for signs to confirm his guess ever since Fraser admitted to leading them away from civilization. He'd seen Fraser leave more than a few unnecessary broken branches and shifted rocks in their wake. Fraser looked at him inscrutably. "Yes." Ray nodded, accepting it. What was one more thing when they were already headed for America's best imitation of the Arctic Circle? "I guess we're far enough ahead." "We are." Fraser moved over to the river, peering into it with an appraising look. "If we begin walking early tomorrow, we should reach the snow line by midday." He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, still eyeing the stream bed. Ray watched as he lay down on his belly, dipping his arms into the frigid water at the edge of the stone. Ray noticed goose-flesh rising on his friend's skin, but Benny ignored it, staring into the water and moving his hands carefully against the current for a moment that stretched, then stretched again. "Got one." Fraser suddenly lifted a thrashing silver fish out of the clear torrent between his palms. "You're unbelievable." Ray gingerly accepted the fish, hooking his finger through the gill plate the way Fraser demonstrated, careful to avoid its sharp edge. "On the contrary, Ray. I believe there is more than ample evidence of my feet of clay." Fraser's attempt at lightness was spoiled by the sobriety of his eyes. "We all make mistakes, Benny. You're still the same guy I know and love." Ray bellied down on the rock next to Fraser. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here, getting ready to teach me how to fish." Benny hesitated, looking at Ray uncertainly, then acquiesced. "Well, Ray, trout almost always swim with their heads pointed upstream, into the current. Fish like to rest in deep pockets where the water is slow-moving. If you can identify a likely location for one to lie concealed and then watch until you see it move, it's relatively simple to ease your hands slowly up through the water behind it and then clasp them around its ribs. Take care to keep your fingers away from the gill plates." He demonstrated, sweeping his hands through the water. "Sounds easy enough." Ray scrambled up and moved to a rock of his own, peering down into the stream. After a few minutes he thought he saw something move, and started to reach into the water. "Fraser?" "Yes, Ray?" "Are there leeches in this water?" "Unlikely, Ray. Leeches typically prefer warmer waters or swampy low-lying locations with plenty of sediment and organic matter." "Good." Ray slipped his hands into liquid ice, so cold it made his bones ache like rusty needles were jabbing into them. "Jesus, it's cold." Sure enough, a pale streamer of silver undulated gently in the clear water. He started moving his hands forward cautiously, wondering if there would be enough sensation left to feel the trout when he grabbed it. "Of course, there are probably salamanders and crayfish." "Crayfish?" Ray questioned absently, concentrating on the slow-moving body of the fish he was targeting. "Small lobster-like crustaceans with strong pincers." "What??!" Ray deliberately exaggerated his yelp, hamming it up a little. "Ray." Fraser chided him patiently, with a note of tolerant amusement. "You're scaring the fish." "They're scaring me!" Ray made a grab for the fish, still stalking the slender trout. "Damn, I missed him." It was harder than it looked to estimate the depth where the trout hovered. He moved to another spot and started looking again. Benny snagged another trout, then came to watch as Ray made his second attempt. "Not quite so deep. That's it. Slower... slower... don't move in yet. When you do, move fast. Almost... now!" The fish flopped violently between Ray's palms and he struggled to get to his knees without losing it, but it was slimy and stronger than he'd expected, and something sharp scored his thumb. As he tried to lift it out of the water, it slipped free and splashed back into the stream, darting away under the rock. "I had it, I had it!" Ray was surprised by his own delight in spite of losing the fish. Fraser took his hand and examined the small cut on his thumb. "Trout have sharp bones in their gill plates," he explained. "The protective slime coating they exude is an irritant, and your thumb may be painful for a day or two." "I'll live," Ray grinned. His hand was really too numb from the cold to hurt much. "I'll get the next one." He didn't, nor the one after that, but as the sun began to sink low and shadows stretched across the water, making it hard to see the fish, he finally managed to land a fat trout. In short order it was dangling from a stick with the two Benny had caught. "I feel like the great white hunter or something," Ray confided comfortably. "I never did anything like that before." "You did well," Fraser complimented. "It is a difficult skill to acquire rapidly." "I had a good teacher." Fraser's pleased look shouldn't have been so shy, but at least it was there. "Now teach me how to build a fire, will ya? It's getting chilly out here, and my stomach thinks my throat's been cut." "Of course, Ray." Ray listened while Fraser lectured quietly on the art of fire building, stacking tinder and branches carefully inside a crevice of the cliff that he said should serve as a natural chimney. It didn't seem fair that the man could make a fire using only two rocks and some dead brush, but Ray was glad he could. Within minutes the fire caught in earnest, and Ray was happy to search through the nearby woods for enough deadfall wood to last the night-- quite a respectable amount, since the fire would be their only source of heat. While he got good and dirty hauling wood, Fraser applied himself to building shelter. Ray caught glimpses of him constructing a lean-to at an angle to their fireplace, and realized that the whole setup had been chosen for its location, which would keep the fire concealed unless you stood right on top of it. Ray smiled. Trust Benny for that. Fraser worked methodically, covering the lean-to frame with pine boughs and lining the inside thickly with leaves and pine needles. It looked rustic and inviting. Ray knew better, and he spared a rueful wish for a nice Posturepedic. When he returned with his last armload of dry wood, Fraser had all three trout gutted and spitted on peeled green sticks, ready to be roasted over the blaze. He showed Ray the best approximate distance and angle to hold his fish, and they settled into companionable silence as they rotated their dinner over the embers, watching for signs that it was done. It was oddly comfortable and satisfying to sit and rest after the long hike, looking forward to a hot meal. "I always wanted to do stuff like this," Ray confided to Fraser. "My old man wasn't much for the father/son stuff, though. One time I got my ma's best sheets and set up a tent in the back yard for us to sleep out in. I wanted him to teach me how to build a fire and all that." He fell silent for a second, brooding. "He was down at the bar and didn't care enough to come home. So I didn't get to go camping." The confession hurt, dredging up old pain and resentment. Fraser regarded him with an inscrutable expression. "The first time I ever built a fire, my father took me out into the woods, gave me two stones, and walked away." He added another stick to the coals soberly. "I don't really remember how I managed, or what that first fire was like, but I never forgot what it felt like to be out there, alone, in the dark. And I never lost the skill." He gestured toward their fire-ring to demonstrate. "Maybe that's what he intended." Ray shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder what people are thinking when they go to have kids." He turned his stick, watching juice drip and sizzle in the coals. "I guess most of them don't bother." He sighed and shifted to avoid a stone that was digging into his hip. "Still, it's not like I never got to go camping at all. I mean, I'm here now with you, enjoying the great outdoors." He smiled at Benny. Fraser looked startled, then pleased, then he lifted his stick to cover his awkwardness, poking at the two hot fish skewered on the forked tips, then extending them over the flames again. "Under rather less than ideal circumstances, Ray." "So? That's what camping's all about, isn't it?" Ray waited for it, expectant, and sure enough, this time Benny's lips quirked upward ever-so-slightly. "Ah, I got ya. You know I'm right." Ray smirked, triumphant. The sky was fully dark before Fraser decreed the fish were ready to eat, and Ray was so hungry he almost didn't mind the lack of salt or the necessity of eating with his fingers. He peeled the skin away and flaked off the tender meat inside a little at a time. They each ate one fish and gave the third to Diefenbaker, Fraser fussing about getting all the tiny bones out first. The wolf was impatient to have his share and didn't seem pleased that he'd had to wait for it to cook. "If you didn't want to wait you could have hunted for mice or rabbits," Fraser reminded him archly. "Ray and I each caught our own." Dief grumbled, still licking the flat river rock that had served as his dish. Fraser returned to the fire, tossing the fish skeletons into the coals. He tucked his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms around them and gazing into the fire. Silence settled over their small campsite, broken only by the noises of night insects and the faraway hooting of a great horned owl. "I'm hollow inside without her," Fraser commented without preamble, a slight thickness in his voice betraying his nonchalant tone. "Like I'm not really here. My body is just going through the motions." "It's gonna be hard for a while." Ray nodded sympathetic agreement. "It was like that for me too after I got my divorce. I had to live from day to day, and sometimes I didn't know how I could go on. I just kept... looking around and expecting her to be there. Needing her to be there." He stared into the fire himself for a while, peripherally aware of Benny's slow nod. "You've got to make yourself something to live for. I threw myself into my work. It was all I had left, and it showed me I was still worth something." Fraser nodded thoughtfully. "I am at a loss for other methods to try," he spoke softly, "and your endorsement of this one means a great deal to me, Ray. But the fact remains that I'm absent without leave from my duties. I don't believe my superiors will be lenient." "Benny, if you want your job back, I'll do whatever it takes to make 'em give it to you, even if I have to walk barefoot all the way to the Yukon." Benny was shaking his head, sad fondness in his eyes. "I don't even know that I deserve... a second chance." The light went out of his eyes, and he withdrew inside himself even as Ray watched. "Hey." Ray reached and shook his arm. "Stop that. What'd I say about you being too hard on yourself? Everybody deserves a second chance. As far as I'm concerned you've got unlimited do-overs, Benny." Fraser lifted his head slowly, something primal fluttering deep in his eyes: caution, unbearable pain, dawning hope, an ineffable wildness. Ray fell still, feeling a little bit like a deer frozen in headlights. He held Benny's eyes soberly. "Thank you, Ray." Fraser's voice was husky with emotion. "You're welcome." The words felt inadequate, but Ray meant them. It was a long time before the gaze broke. They sat in silence for long moments, watching the thin curl of smoke waft up from their small fire, soot settling to darken the stones of the crevice. Finally Ray sighed, stretching stiffness out of his shoulders. "We're both dead on our feet. Too little rest, too little food, and too much walking. Come on. Let's get some sleep." He scooted over to lie under the lean-to, pillowing his head on his arm. Benny fed the fire, looking sober, then carefully eased in behind Ray, rustling the leaves and boughs he'd gathered for bedding. Ray sighed and tried to relax, torn between relief and regret when Benny didn't scoot close to share their body heat. At least half regret. OK, mostly regret. Fine. Ray set his jaw with annoyance. He was man enough to admit there was something funny going on inside his head. The pine needles and the rocks under them were lumpy and uncomfortable under his ribs and hip and it wasn't like he was headed for dreamland anytime soon. No better time than the present to kick back and examine whatever was going down. Get it all out in the open and analyze all the clues like he did every day on the job. Ray squeezed his eyes shut, replaying the past few days right down to their last words. A couple of sincere words about second-chances and do-overs, then Benny got weird on him, getting that spooked wild animal look in his eyes like he didn't know whether to attack or run. Who else had he seen that look directed at? The closest he could come was Victoria, but that didn't make any sense. Why would Benny look at Ray the way he looked at her, desperate and lost and scared and hopeful, his eyes burning so that it looked like his soul was already in Hell? Ray was enough of a detective to know there was a nasty can of worms waiting if he pushed that train of thought far enough. Anyway, it wasn't worth his time to build a complicated house of cards based on assumptions and guesswork. His own reactions ought to be easier to work through. Every step that had brought them here had seemed inevitable at the time. A man had to do whatever it took to help his best friend, and Benny... Benton Fraser was closer to Ray than his own brother had ever been. He was a companion and an inspiration, someone who'd showed Ray what a good cop he could be. Someone who'd accepted him unconditionally and then coaxed him to surpass himself, pushing him gently but inexorably without ever condemning him. Ray owed Fraser rescue, owed him loyalty and support. Ray cherished him, loved his strength and his integrity and his fragility and his stubborn idealism. He wanted Benny to be happy and strong. Needed him to be, maybe. None of that explained the wet dream he'd had in Vegas. Benny was shivering behind him, rustling the dry leaves. He couldn't be getting any warmth from the fire since Ray's body was between it and him, and the lean-to wasn't holding in a heck of a lot of heat, given how it was open on one side and just woven out of pine branches to begin with. Ray wanted to turn to Benny, to move closer and share precious warmth. That was new. When they were trapped in that stupid freezer with all the dead horses, Ray'd been ready to freeze to death before he'd agree to share Benny's body heat. He'd decided to be wrapped in frozen horse meat instead. Right now it seemed like a pretty fucking stupid choice to have made, and that was weighed against a lifetime that had featured some incredibly dumb decisions. "Benny?" Ray reached and fed the fire, renewing the blaze. "Yes, Ray?" "You're the one who told me you know how to survive in the mountains. Freezing to death isn't gonna solve anything. You're Mr. Practical Wilderness Survival. You tell me what the first step toward hypothermia is." He didn't pause for the answer, continuing gruffly. "Shivering, right. And you know what to do about it." He rolled over awkwardly and gathered Benny into a rough embrace, pressing Fraser's sturdy body against the fire-warmed cloth of his shirt and jeans. Ray could feel Benny's heart beating hard, but he remained silent. The slight mist of their rising breath mingled visibly in the muted glow of the fire. Fraser lay stiffly against him, body too tense for comfort. Ray felt flayed open and vulnerable with Fraser in his arms, as though he was caught out in a public place in just his underwear. He wasn't comfortable with showing tenderness, wasn't used to all this closeness and sharing and stuff. He felt like he'd been on a roller coaster for days now, raw emotion ratcheting up higher and higher in between stomach-churning drops into fear. Just as Ray decided he couldn't stand it any longer and opened his mouth to offer to let go, Fraser sighed, a low exhalation that felt as though it might never end. He brought his arm around Ray's waist and settled against him, the nerve-wracking tension slowly ebbing from his body. His surrender left Ray holding a limber armful of tired, sleepy Benny. Ray felt his heart thump uncomfortably at the soft expression on Benny's face, at the curve of his closed lids and lashes, at the trust his relaxation implied. Worrying about that dream was just going to have to wait. Benny needed him to be strong now, and he'd be damned if he'd come this far just to cop out. Shifting to pull Benny tighter against him, Ray closed his eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep. Waking was a lot less pleasant. Though they'd awakened to feed the fire several times in the night, it had ultimately burned out and Ray was freezing. He and Fraser pressed together tightly, both their bodies racked with shivers. Ray had a stick gouging his ribs and a stone poking his kidney and his bladder was about to burst. He pulled away from Fraser, flinching at the loss of warmth, and went to attend pressing business in the unthreatening company of a tall tree. Hot coffee would have been a godsend, but there was none. There was no breakfast to be had either, though Fraser made half-hearted noises about hunting for grubs. Ray tightened his belt and told himself that they were roughing it. By this time tomorrow maybe he'd be sitting in front of a stack of pancakes as tall as Diefenbaker and a huge pot of black coffee. He felt absurdly reluctant to leave their tiny campsite, but Benny was eager to be away, glancing around as though he expected Edwards to appear in the forest any minute. Diefenbaker also seemed to sense urgency in the air, whining and prancing around them stiff-legged, making little forays away into the woods and coming back to urge them to follow with a low growling whine. They scattered the scorched stones and unused firewood, then drowned and buried the last embers of their fire and took down the lean-to, leaving the woods looking as untouched as possible. Partly warmed by the activity, Ray watched Benny work, relieved by the way he moved-- he seemed happier, more energetic. Some of the stress-filled lines in his face had eased, and he looked like he'd slept enough, if not well. Ray felt thick emotion gather in his throat, and swallowed around it. "That everything? Great." They climbed steadily, rewarded for their efforts around midmorning as they stumbled upon a cluster of blackberry brambles that bore partly-ripened fruit. Ignoring the sour wild-berry taste, Ray ate ravenously, too hungry to care about staining himself purple. By contrast, Fraser picked and ate neatly, the purple juice barely staining his fingertips, lips, and tongue. Even Diefenbaker joined in, extending his muzzle daintily and nipping fruit off the lowest canes. Ray marveled at the smooth wood of the thicket. "I thought blackberries had thorns." He ran a fingertip down the length of a thick cane. "Not when they grow more than 5000 feet above sea level. Wild blackberry canes are frequently bare of thorns in high northern latitudes as well. At least, they are in environments where they naturally occur." Fraser eyed the bare rock face behind the jungle of tangled plants. "It's early in the season for ripe fruit, Ray. I believe this cliff traps and reflects heat that encourages the fruit to mature." "Whatever. It's just good we found it." Ray forced his way further into the tangle for another helping of breakfast. He came out with a handful of fat berries and chose one for Fraser, extending it between his left thumb and forefinger. "Eat up. We don't want to leave any for Edwards to find." Fraser nodded, then amazingly dipped his head to take the juice-dripping berry with his mouth instead of his fingers. The gesture was both fastidious and maddeningly seductive, moist heat brushing Ray's fingertips. Ray's cock twitched with distinct interest and he nearly dropped his handful of fruit as he shied from the unexpected sensation. Benny watched him silently, chewing, a flicker of that disconcerting, untamed expression visible behind his level gaze. Benny had taken Victoria's fingers into his mouth to save them from the cold. Ray squelched that knowledge fiercely. This was nothing like that. "Jeez, Benny. Warn a guy when you're gonna do that." In spite of everything, Ray felt his heart quicken as he held out another berry the same way, reaching straight toward Fraser's mouth this time. Benny took it again, no big deal-- Ray was ready this time. Benny's mouth didn't linger. He touched Ray's purple-stained fingertips with his tongue as his lips closed around Ray's fingers and he pulled back, taking the drips of juice gathering there. Just a man eating a berry with his mouth because he didn't want to touch it with his own fingers and get them all purple. Yeah, that was all. Ray ate a berry himself, trying to look casual about putting his fingers in his own mouth when they still tingled from the touch of Benny's lips. He sent a threatening mental note to his cock, promising it a handful of snow later if it didn't stop acting crazy right now. Fraser waded into the thicket to pluck a last few ripe fruits, sparing Ray the knotty problem of deciding whether to continue finger-feeding him, so he shared the last ones with Diefenbaker instead, relieved that it was all out of his hands. Fraser's head came up thoughtfully, tilted in an attitude of listening. "We should move on now, Ray. I believe Martin is close on our heels. We lost time by stopping early last night." He scrambled out of the tangle, swallowing a last few berries hurriedly-- his hands were stained with purple juice now in spite of all his caution. Ray matched Benny's quickened pace, and by mid-afternoon they reached the tree line, staring across the narrow fir-sprinkled tundra belt that lay between the forest and the snowcap. "There will be considerable danger from this point onward, Ray." Benny frowned. "Perhaps you would prefer to hike to one side and await my return. Diefenbaker and I can continue onward and track you later...." "He'll see there's just one set of footprints in the snow, Benny." Ray shook his head. "You think you're gonna abandon me in the middle of this godforsaken wilderness? I'm coming." "I haven't had the opportunity to make snowshoes, Ray, and there will be relatively little cover." "It's about time you told me more about what you're planning, Benny. You hoping he'll freeze to death before we do? We've got a better chance if we're together." Fraser's eyes warmed, the corners of his mouth curving upward in a small smile. "It's quite simple, Ray. We are going to avoid the hazards of the mountain until Martin falls prey to one. Freezing is only one possibility." "I figured it was something like that." Ray shook his head. "Anybody ever tell you you're a glutton for punishment?" "I have a friend who has mentioned that possibility more than once." Deadpan, Fraser started trekking up through the low vegetation. "At times, I wonder what it says about him that he insists on accompanying me." Ray laughed with unexpected pleasure. "He's probably a stubborn Italian jerk with more heart than smarts." "Plenty of both, I'd say." Fraser looked straight ahead toward the horizon, pulling slightly ahead. Ray let him, glad of the chance to hide both his embarrassment and his pleasure in the compliment. The tundra wasn't too bad for hiking, though Ray felt like a sitting duck as they advanced beyond the last scattered trees into the windswept tundra meadow. The sun beat down brightly on the top of his balding head, and he basked in its warmth while he had the chance. He could feel slight bite of the breeze, especially on the shadowed side of his body, promising worse to come when they reached the snow. Ray rubbed the bridge of his nose. They were gonna freeze their asses off up there. Another night of sleeping close to Fraser. The third in a row. Everything felt out of control; his world had skewed and gone crazy. Seeing Fraser on his knees in that alley had totally fucked up his head. He just couldn't keep the memory bottled up the way it ought to be. Ray's eyes wandered idly from Fraser's shoulders down to his beautifully turned thighs-- fine strong legs with powerful muscles and narrow ankles like a racehorse-- and his firm denim-clad ass. Ray's feet tangled around one another, and he nearly fell, lurching to one side. He was checking Benny out. Holy fucking shit! Just as he stumbled, a bullet zinged past his shoulder with a fierce whine like a pissed-off wasp. Ray shied violently. "Holy fucking shit, Fraser!" "My sentiments exactly, Ray." They fell into a crouching run, pelting uphill hard while dodging as well as they could. Ray returned fire over his shoulder even though running spoiled his aim, hoping to drive Edwards under cover. The earth turned wet, then icy, and Benny slipped and almost fell. Ray steadied him and they plowed on into deepening snow, following a slight fold in the land until they reached a low line of boulders that would do for cover. Dief flopped onto his belly when they stopped, looking unconcerned. "Great, now we've got cover, but we're pinned down." Ray checked his ankle holster. "I got one more clip with me, Benny, and that's it." "We'll hold him off till nightfall. Then we can move." Edwards seemed to have concerns about his ammunition levels as well; shots ceased to come from below. Ray poked his head up cautiously and saw no sign of movement, so he slumped back down. "Perhaps Martin would like to parley," Benny mused. "Yeah, right." "Fraser!" A hollow shout echoed and re-echoed across the blazing white snowfield. Ray rolled his eyes toward heaven. "Do you always have to be right?" "Hst." Fraser gestured for silence. "Martin?" he replied coolly. "Give me back the money or you and Vecchio aren't making it off this mountain alive!" "Oh yeah, that's original." Ray rolled his eyes. "He definitely has a way with words," Fraser admitted. Ray checked Edwards' position again, satisfied to find him lying belly-down in a mostly-dry stream bed just below the snowcap. "He's gonna get soaked lying there," Ray observed, leaning against a boulder so that the snow wouldn't dampen his own jeans. "It seems likely," Fraser concurred, similarly positioned. "Are you listening to me? Fraser? Vecchio? You can't hold me off forever. You better do this the easy way while you still can. Just give me the winnings and I'll let you go." Ray raised a brow at Benny, who just shook his head. Ray tipped his head back. "Pull the other one!" "Eloquent," Benny commented. "Thanks." Ray checked his clip and then popped up to eyeball Edwards again, but the man stayed put. Ray had to burn a couple of bullets over the next few hours to keep Edwards pinned down while the sun sank. He and Benny took turns watching, not talking much. Ray's thighs ached from squatting, but by unspoken agreement neither man let his clothing come in contact with the snow. No point getting wet when there was no way to get dry again. He kept his mouth shut about his fears that Edwards might call for backup. Benny moved around him awkwardly when the sun set, placing his own body between Ray and the icy wind sweeping down across the snow fields. Ray pressed close to him without comment, too cold to worry about macho appearances. "The moon won't rise for another hour. As soon as it's fully dark, we'll move even if he stays," Fraser murmured in his ear. "The afternoon sun thawed the top layer of snow, and it's re-freezing now. We won't leave tracks for him to follow." Ray nodded, tucking his hands into his armpits, trying to keep an eye peeled for Edwards. "He's moving," Fraser breathed after several minutes. "Back down toward the tree-cover." Ray fumbled for his gun, but Benny's hand stopped him. "It's too dark to aim. Let him go. He'll have trouble surviving the night in those wet clothes." Calm satisfaction filled his voice. "What about us?" "We aren't wet." Now that Edwards was gone, Fraser tugged at Ray, and they set out across the glass-smooth surface of the snow, both men slipping and sliding. Even Dief had trouble navigating. Fraser seemed to know where he was headed, so Ray followed as well as he could, feeling the bitter bite of the air grow fiercer. Some time after moonrise, Benny angled away toward a ridge, and the snow under their feet grew soft and wet as they entered an area that had been shaded during the day. "This should do," Fraser's teeth were chattering. He sank to his knees and started to shovel at the heavy snow with both hands. "What?" Ray asked wearily. "I'm digging a snow cave. We need shelter." "You're gonna freeze your hands, Benny." Ray started helping Fraser move the snow, his own hands stinging painfully. "It only needs to be big enough for the three of us." Fraser kept digging stubbornly, and Ray helped him move extra snow for a while, fretting. The next time Benny emerged to get rid of a load of snow, the rising moon showed how clumsy his hands were. "All right, that's enough." Ray tugged his belt loop, pulling him out of the hole where he lay half-buried. "Get over here." He opened his coat and shirt impatiently, then tucked Benny's hands inside, snuggling them under his armpits, trying not to flinch back from the icy touch. Benny stepped close, his body shielding Ray's exposed chest. Ray fumbled Benny's black jacket around his shoulders and then slid his own arms inside it, around Benny's warm back. They stood leaning against one another without need for speech, closeness their only barrier against the cold. Fraser's hands warmed gradually as Ray listened to the wind whipping around them, making Fraser's dark hair blow against his cheek. It was longer than Benny used to wear it, silky and fine. It smelled of hotel shampoo and wood smoke. Ray turned his face to feel its tickle against his nose and his lips, leaning his forehead against Fraser's temple. Benny pulled back enough to look at him, eyes dark in the dim moonlight. Their gazes locked, the moment stretching, and Ray felt his heart kick into double-time at the intent expression on Benny's face. Then Fraser's eyes slid shut and they swayed, balance shifting ever-so-slightly. Ray felt icy air burn his lungs as he inhaled, hardly daring to move. Benny was moving forward, breath warm on Ray's face... so terribly tentative. Ray let his own eyelids sink shut, closing out the stark shadows and ghostly white moonlight, closing out the slow approach of Fraser's mouth. Refusing thought. Refusing the cold white landscape and the watchful eye of the pale moon. Refusing panic. Refusing everything but what Benny wanted. Fraser's lips touched his. Rough dry silk and warm living breath feathered across his mouth, a fleeting caress. Ray's body shuddered once, uncontrollably. Cold, fear, passion-- he couldn't tell which. Benny pulled back from him, leaving him shivering and confused. Benny went back to his knees before Ray could recover, digging into the snowdrift again. Ray buttoned back up and resumed helping Fraser move the snow he didn't simply pack down. Before long, Benny's legs disappeared and Dief came up, whining a little, poking his head in to see what was going on. "Come inside and help me, Ray." Benny's voice emerged, muffled by the snow. Ray nervously crawled inside and found that the short tunnel opened out into a narrow foxhole just slightly taller and wider than Benny's body. "Bring Diefenbaker, if he'll come. Pull the extra snow behind you and pack it over the entry, but leave a hole the size of your open hand for air to get in." Ray crawled back out again and coaxed Dief into the hole ahead of him, then squirmed around until he could slide in feet first. "We have to pack the snow tightly enough that we'll all fit." Fraser sounded weary and cold. "Yeah, OK." Ray squirmed for room, gouging at the snow with elbows and knees and even with his head. He grimaced. This was getting him wet, but Fraser was much wetter. Together they managed to wallow out a minimum of elbow room, just enough for them and Dief to share, then lay panting in the darkness. Ray reached to feel how wet Benny's clothes were, grunting as Dief's clumsy paws scratched heavily on his ribs and legs as the wolf squirmed across them to lie in the curve behind Fraser's knees. Good. Benny needed the extra warmth more than Ray did. "You aren't touching the snow anywhere?" Benny's teeth chattered. Ray squirmed around a little more. "Nah," he announced. Except for the floor, but they couldn't do much about that. "Good. This should insulate us enough to survive until morning, Ray. I hope we won't need to spend a second night above the snow line." Fraser sounded apologetic. "How're your hands?" Ray followed Fraser's arms down till he found his friend's icy hands and tucked them against his body. "Come on, Benny. We gotta warm up here." "We'll need to flex our toes and feet through the night to keep the blood flowing so we won't be frostbitten." Benny came into Ray's arms and they struggled to arrange themselves comfortably, sliding arms back inside each other's jackets, twining their legs, bringing the maximum amount of body surface into contact. Ray could feel Benny's strong calf and thigh muscles tensing and relaxing as he took his own advice, and he followed suit. Necessity. Benny's solid warm body, the soft skin of his face against Ray's neck. Necessary and imperative for survival. And oh-so-good in contrast to the numbing cold, sweet like the fleeting touch of Benny's mouth.... Shit, he shouldn't be thinking like that, but what else was there to think about except the insidious creeping cold? "We should talk to keep one another awake." Benny's voice hitched suddenly, almost unnoticeable, but Ray recognized his pain. It was how Fraser and Victoria had saved one another in the snow. "So, what ya wanna talk about?" Ray's attempt at a cheerful tone fell flat in the darkness. There was so much to talk about, and most of it was intimate and painful and definitely not on the agenda. Benny also seemed to feel the weight of the potential subject matter keenly; he swallowed hard and remained uncharacteristically silent for a long moment. Just when Ray was drawing breath to start reciting the alphabet, sing *Camptown Races,* or do anything to end the heavy silence, Benny spoke up. "How did you find me?" Fraser shifted slightly, beginning to warm in Ray's arms. "I only sent the envelopes when we were ready to leave wherever we were and start over again in a new city." "You were pretty consistent moving around different regions," Ray answered. "And you never revisited any city twice. You were out west, and there's not much there. I took a long shot." Fraser nodded. "I certainly did not expect to see you in the alley." That was the understatement of the year, Ray suspected. It conjured the memory of Benny on his knees, his mouth wet and reddened... Ray tensed. "I didn't expect to see you there either, Benny." Ray said the words without thinking, and it was Fraser's turn to draw tight with tension. "It wasn't so bad, at first." Benny sounded as though the words were being torn from him. "We didn't have anything. The diamonds were left behind scattered all over the platform in Chicago, and she'd abandoned the money to make the frame for you. I couldn't get a job without a green card. So Victoria flattered me. She said I was handsome, and that we could use that to earn money without having to go through the government red tape... at first I escorted women to social affairs. That was when I began to send the envelopes to you." "Benny..." Ray let the grief he felt escape into his voice without shame. "You don't have to--" "Yes, Ray. Yes, I do." Fraser spoke with slow intensity. "You came to find me; you're planning to vouch for me to Leftenant Welsh and Superintendent Moffat. You deserve to know the truth. You have to know." Acquiescing uncomfortably, Ray lay still and let Fraser find the words to begin. "After a time we were approached by a man who had observed me with an older lady at a bureaucratic function. He asked for my services, and offered to pay a considerable sum, much more than the ladies who had hired me for my companionship. I accompanied him to a restaurant for dinner, and we parted when the evening was over. After that..." Fraser hesitated. "There was repeat business from him, and the offer of more money for... additional services... and when I refused, the offers increased. I didn't tell Victoria about them. At last he approached her with his offer... she was furious that I hadn't told her, and even angrier that I hadn't accepted the money, Ray. She accepted on my behalf, and when he left, she attacked me like a wild thing, accusing me of ruining her life not once, but twice..." Fraser's voice faltered with terrible hurt and guilt, and Ray held him tighter, offering what little comfort he could. "It's enough, Benny. I understand." Ray pressed his cheek against Fraser's, feeling their beard stubble scrape together, feeling Benny's warm skin... not warm enough, but so much better than the cold snow under them and the cold air surrounding them. "I did what she wanted," Benny continued, his voice low and tortured, helpless in the grip of his relentless drive to confess. Unable to find words, Ray just held Benny tightly, not flinching away, hoping it would be enough. He could hear the faint slick of Fraser's tongue as he licked his lips, searching for some way to continue. Benny's lips. He wasn't going to think about them now. So close to him in the darkness, close enough to reach out and touch, and Benny needed comfort so badly... he shifted, moving just a little further away from temptation. "I never kissed them, Ray." Dammit, Benny always seemed to read his mind at the worst possible time. Why didn't he ever do that when they were fishing or hiding behind boulders or just cruising down the highway in the Riv with Ray wondering how far to the next McDonald's? "I did what they wanted of me, for the most part, but never that. Eventually I found myself unwilling to kiss Victoria, as well." Fraser's voice held a tough of anger now, rough beneath the sad silk of his guilt. "I have rarely been touched, Ray. My family... expressions of physical affection were rare and significant during my childhood." Benny's voice formed a steady stream now, words leaving him as though a dam had broken inside. "Given the nature of my conduct, I couldn't afford to let touch affect me profoundly any longer, so I invested certain forms of contact with the intimacy once reserved for them all, and then I chose to withhold them." Ray gently circled his fingertips over the point of Benny's shoulder blade, keenly aware of how much he was touching Benny now, and that it had been just such circumstances and contact that had led to Benny's obsession with Victoria. "Yeah," he muttered hoarsely. "I can see how you'd have to do that, Benny." Fuck, but it was cold, the damp moisture seeping in through his coat and his khakis where they lay against the slow-melting snow of the floor. And Benny had kissed him. God. The one thing he'd said he wouldn't do, and he'd done it with Ray. Ray had no idea what to do about that. "So many women and men," Benny continued, sounding lost. "And they were all empty, Ray. As empty as I felt. With each one, even Victoria, that emptiness grew until it seems as if it is all there is left of me." Fraser shifted, changing the position of their legs. Ray welcomed the sudden increase in his circulation. "They all took from you, Benny, and nobody gave you anything back. That's not the way it's supposed to be." Not with sex. And not with respect, either. Not with thanks or kindness or any of the hundred other good things Fraser had given freely for as long as Ray had known him. Benny nodded, invisible in the darkness, his cheek brushing Ray's. "I stopped trying to help anyone, Ray." He sounded quietly heartbroken. It wasn't true. Fraser had kept giving to Ray, and to Victoria. Even to the clients like Tom he'd given courtesy and integrity. Not much, perhaps, by the harsh standard Fraser set for himself, but hardly nothing. "You did what you could. More than anybody else would have." "My father..." Fraser hesitated, framing his words. "After I let Victoria go to prison, he told me I'd never get a second chance. He was right. I insisted on trying anyway, and you see what became of it. I wonder if my father meant that would always be true, and that Victoria had been my only chance to be happy, but that I'd failed to take it at the right time and now it was too late." Ray listened, understanding that the confessions came from bone-deep inside Fraser, recognizing what it cost him to speak these words and reveal the fear and weakness that lay inside him. Anger flared, focused on Benny's father. He'd meant what he said when he spoke to Benny about a second chance. Benny's dad must have been a hard man to tell his son something so cruel and unequivocal. Like his own old man, calling Fraser a faggot and telling Ray to ditch him. Ray winced inwardly. "When I saw you in Las Vegas, Ray... I felt hope again, hope that I believed I'd lost forever. That day after I left your hotel room...." Fraser's arms tightened around Ray, his low voice echoing mournfully in the small cave. "I thought about my father a great deal, Ray. I could hear what he would say to me-- not to pass up the chance you offered, because it was my first and only chance to get back what I'd lost, and because if I did, I'd never have another...." "Benny." Ray cradled him close helplessly, searching for words of comfort and reassurance, but he knew that what Fraser said might very well be true. If Edwards had cleaned him out before Benny changed his mind, Ray would have had very little option but to return to Chicago empty-handed. "I'm glad you didn't pass it up." He hugged his friend fiercely, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. "I'm glad too, Ray. Your friendship is foremost among the things I regretted leaving. My father once wrote in his journal that 'A friend is someone who won't stop until he finds you and brings you home.'" Benny swallowed. "He was right, Ray. You're a true friend. Perhaps the only friend I've ever had." Fraser's torrent of words abruptly ran dry, leaving a silence in their tiny shelter that was broken only by the rapid rasp of Dief's breathing. "Thanks, Benny." Ray tried not to sound too gruff, but his throat threatened to close up on him. "I missed you too. And your Inuit stories. Why don't I tell you about the time Lieutenant Welsh made Gardino go undercover as a clown at the Mayor's son's fourth birthday party, then you can tell me a couple of them." He could feel Fraser's weak smile in the darkness, a subtle shifting in the face that lay against his neck. "I would enjoy that, Ray." The worst of the tension ebbed then, and they passed the long night alternating stories and shivering, pressing close and working their numbed extremities against the cold. After a while it seemed to Ray that he had spent eternity lying there jealously hoarding the warmth of their entwined bodies, breathing the same air as Benny and feeling Benny's breath whispering against him. He listened to Benny murmur stories and shared his own, soft words warm against chilled skin, until the dim pre-dawn light finally turned the darkness pale. Too cold to wait any longer, they emerged into the dawn to stamp their numb feet and flex their cramped muscles before setting out, steadily pressing upward. Dief complained loudly about the absence of breakfast, but he set the pace, loping across the hard-crusted snow with his tail waving. The sun rose with an almost balmy swell of warmth, finally burning away the worst of the lingering chill Ray felt from their long night buried in the snow. As sensation returned to his toes, he was relieved to realize that the most serious injury he'd sustained seemed to be to his leather shoes. Badly scuffed, they showed signs of separating from the soles and curling up into unrecognizable oblivion. His jacket was in a sad state too, and so was Benny's-- both of them wet and gritty with dirt. So much for Mountie Scotchgarding. Ray's nose was running, and as he wiped it with his sleeve he hoped Benny was right about not spending another night above the snow line. Glancing behind, he searched their back trail and found a moving speck. "Edwards," he pointed, and Fraser nodded, then glanced up at the sun. "He's still alone. That improves our chances considerably." Fraser knelt for a moment, plunging his hands into the snow in two separate places and lifting out the plug between them, shaking it till it shattered, examining what he found. When he stood, ignoring Ray's inquisitive look, he changed their trajectory slightly, leading them up a steep slope in a difficult zig-zag pattern that roughly paralleled the nearest ridge. Ray floundered in his wake, discouraged-- he'd hoped Edwards might give up. "What you got in mind?" "Quietly, Ray." Benny responded in a hushed whisper. He scanned the ground keenly. Ray bit back his complaints and settled for glaring at Fraser instead. They labored upward with agonizing care until they crested the ridge and Fraser stopped. He looked haggard and tired, his hair dirty and wet with sweat. "End of the line, Ray." Fraser slumped to sit on a half-exposed boulder. "This is it, huh?" Ray gazed around. "Doesn't look like much to me." "If we go much higher, we could start having difficulty with altitude sickness." Fraser tipped his head back, shielding his eyes from the sun with the blade of his palm. "Not to mention it's going to get colder the higher we go. Without better gear, we won't make it through another night at this altitude." He sounded matter-of-fact and calm. Ray frowned. "So after all we've been through, we're going to sit here and wait for Edwards so you can write him a check?" Fraser raised his eyebrows at Ray, blinking. "Well, no, Ray. I don't have a checking account." "Then what did you do with the money?" Ray heard his own voice squeak with exasperation. "While you attempted to get reception on your cellular phone, I placed the folded cashier's check under the floor mat in the car." Ray blinked at Fraser's earnest expression. "You left it under the floor mat." "Yes, Ray." Fraser nodded. "And Martin didn't think to search the car before he took off after us." Ray shook his head with disbelief. "I don't know which of us three is worst off, Benny. You for doing that, him for not looking, or me for leaving my cell phone lyin' right there next to that check." Fraser tilted his head and drew breath to answer. "Never mind, I don't wanna hear it." Ray held up a forestalling hand. "So you don't have the check. What are you gonna tell Edwards when he shows up and asks for it?" "I suppose I should prepare for that eventuality." Fraser rose. "Stand well back, Ray. Diefenbaker, stay with him." Sudden steel in Fraser's voice, and for once the wolf obeyed rapidly, whining at Fraser and scratching the snow with one nervous forepaw. "Benny, what are you gonna do?" "Nothing, perhaps." Fraser strode out toward the crest of the hill. Icicles glistened there, dripping from the boulders at the tip of the ridge, the snow gleaming painfully in the bright sunlight. Fraser climbed to the tip of one boulder, fearless, and tucked his hands behind his back, unconsciously assuming parade rest. "Benny, he'll see you!" Ray hissed. "Indeed, Ray." Fraser sounded calm. "Has it slipped your mind that he has a gun?" Ray's voice rose dangerously and he had to modulate it again. "That fact is foremost in my mind." Ray rolled his eyes with exasperation. "Damn it, Benny!" He moved forward, and Fraser flung out a hand sharply, halting him in mid-step. "Martin!" Fraser called, his voice echoing roundly through the valley. Ray swore under his breath, taking another step forward. A crack rang out and rock splinters flew near Fraser's feet, one of them grazing Ray's cheek painfully. Fraser stood still. "Benny, for Christ's sake!" Ray snatched at Fraser as another gunshot pierced the air, dragging him down from the rock and coming gut-wrenchingly close to sending both of them toppling over the edge. A low groan rent the air, like nothing Ray had ever heard. Then Benny was clawing at him with hard, urgent hands and they scrambled back from the edge together. The ground shook underneath them, rumbling horribly, and they rolled through wet, clinging snow, hanging on for dear life. Ray wound up on his back with Fraser's weight half-over him, staring up at the sun as the deafening roar played itself out, receding into a distant rumble, then to nothing. Diefenbaker whined. Benny recovered first, crawling back toward the edge. A puff of white hung in the air, like fog or smoke rising from the valley, gradually dissipating. Ray followed on Benny's heels shakily. There was no sign of Edwards, or of their own trail. Everything was simply wiped away, obliterated by the avalanche. "I found a promising cleavage plane approximately eleven inches down in the snow pack I examined earlier," Fraser explained. "Conditions were such that it seemed likely it could give way, given the proper encouragement." "And you couldn't let me in on this information, is that it? It's the law of the wild, right? If you tell your partner what you're planning, then your crazy plan won't work?" "Actually, Ray, Jack London wrote that the law of the wild was 'eat or be eaten.'" Fraser looked at him guilelessly, covered in powdery snow. Diefenbaker barked once, clearly a sound of smug agreement. "Did you have to use yourself for target practice?" Ray changed the subject without losing heat. Fraser's lips curved upward, his eyes warm. "It seemed the best way to get Martin to shoot and trigger the avalanche." Ray threw up his hands. "Let's get off this mountain before we wind up spending the night in another snowdrift." He started to stalk downward, then halted. "It is safe, right?" "It's considerably safer than it was when we climbed." Benny's eyes still held that faint smile. "Well, let's get goin'. We gotta make it back to Chicago before Welsh has an apoplectic fit." Ray turned his nose toward civilization. "You got any idea what you're going to say to Superintendent Moffat?" The question hung between them, awaiting Fraser's decision. "Actually, Ray, I do." Benny almost smiled, his eyes a little nervous. "After all, I got my man." "You do remember that's not the real Mountie motto, don't you?" Ray pointed out wryly, relieved. "Well, of course, Ray." Fraser looked puzzled. "The real motto is 'Defend the right.' Which doesn't change the fact that both Victoria and Martin are now accounted for in the eyes of the law--" Ray just rolled his eyes and started stomping down the mountain to hide his grin. It took them two days to get into town-- long hard days that aggravated blisters and chilblains on their feet. Two days of walking and fishing, and one moderately chilly night spent huddled by a campfire. It was a lower elevation and the night air was a lot warmer, so they lay down separately on either side of the campfire to sleep. The long hike gave Ray plenty of time for thinking, and predictably, his thoughts kept circling around one thing: he'd let Fraser kiss him. He'd stood still on that mountaintop and let another guy's lips touch his own and he hadn't decked Fraser for it. Not at all. He'd... it had been... it wasn't that bad. Ray increased their pace, trying to outrun his discomfort. By the time they stumbled into a rustic cross-country skiing/hunting lodge late in the second day, all Ray's exhausted mind could hold was the gnawing hunger in his stomach, the pain in his feet, and the memory of that butterfly-brush of lips. They looked like hell, enough to make the desk clerk blink and edge nervously toward a phone, but Ray still had his wallet and showing his money did plenty to calm her down. "Gimme the best room you got left and send up everything Room Service can get on two trays." He started peeling off bills, not really caring what it cost. All he wanted was food and a shower and bed, in that order. The girl fished out a room key with gratifying speed. After less than five minutes, he and Benny were climbing a flight of dark-stained oak steps up to their room. The door opened to reveal a cozy, masculine looking space with hardwood floors, wool rugs, dark-green bedding, and a wide fireplace with a stuffed deer's head stuck over the mantel. Ray winced away from its glassy-eyed stare, feeling punchy. He flopped onto the right-hand bed, and feeling its welcoming softness, his body and brain did a quick shuffle; sleep might just be even more attractive than a bath and food. "You're getting the coverlet dirty, Ray." Ray groaned and hauled himself up. "So you can tramp around in the wilderness for days and only get half as dirty as the average man? That's no reason to rub it in, Fraser." He staggered to the bathroom and showered, then couldn't stand the thought of putting his ruined clothes back on, so he headed out into the main room with a towel wrapped around his waist, discovering that Fraser had started a fire. "There's hot water left." Ray slumped into an easy chair, not unconscious of Fraser's eyes lingering on him. "Go get your bath. Just don't go to sleep and fall in." A shiver slid down his spine when Benny hesitated. "By the time you get out, room service ought to be here." "Yes, Ray." Fraser disappeared quietly. Ray sat and stared into the fire, trying not to drift off before Room Service came. He was nodding when they tapped at the door, and he had them set the trays between the two beds before he tipped them to leave. Big bowls of thick, hearty clam chowder, huge sizzling medium-rare ribeye steaks, green beans, giant baked potatoes slit open and dripping with butter and sour cream. Garlic toast. A pot of hot tea with honey. "Fraser, get out here before I eat yours, too!" Ray fidgeted and struggled not to eat more than just a piece of crust off his bread. Benny emerged quickly, a towel wrapped around his hips, vigorously drying his hair. Ray decided that was enough polite waiting and tore into his food like a starving man-- which, of course, he was. Fraser sat down next to him and did likewise, and for a long time the only noise was the clink of tableware and the sounds of chewing and swallowing. Finally Ray flopped onto his back and groaned. "I'm gonna explode, Benny." "It's very good, Ray." For once Fraser answered with his mouth full. Now that they were fed, clean, and sheltered, Ray was no longer preoccupied with survival, and his thoughts redirected themselves accordingly. He stared up at the dark-stained wooden beams of the high ceiling, feeling tension gather in him like a tightly coiled spring. He couldn't avoid it any more. Fraser had been with a man. Men. And that meant he might want to be with Ray. That was the huge looming truth of it, the thundering possibility that had hung over Ray's head for days now, leaving him quivering with wonder and terror. "Benny, why'd you kiss me?" Ray stared at the ceiling, hearing the words that had circled in his head all the way down the mountain come out of his mouth without conscious intent. His heart accelerated with a sharp, exhilarating, and terrifying edge of excitement. Fraser stilled, then carefully set down the mug of tea he held. His hands folded themselves in his lap, clutching one another over the skirt of the fluffy white towel. "I was expressing my affection and gratitude to you during a difficult moment, Ray. Words..." he swallowed. "Words did not seem to suffice." Ray nodded, covering his face with his arm, peering out with one eye. "It was awfully cold up there, wasn't it, Benny?" "Yes. Indeed it was." The nervous hands switched places. "I guess we had to do a lotta stuff we wouldn't have done otherwise," Ray mused nervously, afraid to stop talking. "Stuff like hugging and sleeping close and warming your hands and tryin' to keep from freezing to death." "Yes, Ray." Fraser's voice sounded strained. "It's all right, Fraser. I'm not gonna punch you or anything." Ray held his breath. "Thank you." Fraser still sounded upset. Again the silence stretched uncomfortably. Ray didn't know what he was hoping for... only that he didn't know how to make it happen with clumsy words, and the silence was so bad he had to talk, had to say something to make it stop. He had to make it all right, and he didn't know how. "We were freezing to death, getting chased by a nut with a gun. We were both sorta out of our heads, weren't we." No response, and Ray felt vaguely disappointed and more than a little ashamed. "No foul, OK?" "No foul, Ray." Benny answered soberly, with a quiet nod, still withdrawn. Aw, hell. "We still friends?" Ray knew the moment was ending, and he lifted his arm to look, his heart oddly heavy. "Of course, Ray. As you wish." Fraser carried the trays away and went to the opposite bed, drawing back the covers. Ray watched with a fresh pang of uncertain regret as Benny slipped between the crisp white sheets. In a moment, Fraser's arm emerged to let his towel drop to the floor. "Night, Benny." "Good night, Ray." It was over; the conversation was over, and nothing was changed. Exhausted and at a loss, Ray got up and climbed under his own covers, yawning so hard his jaw cracked. He watched the long, still ridge of Fraser's back as his eyelids drooped, feeling a sense of loss that his friend was not pressed up against him, as they had slept for so many nights now. Maybe everything would seem better in the morning. Finally Ray dropped off, sliding into oppressive dreams. -end- End