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      	  unexpected 
 by Nicci  

 Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. I am poor

 Author's Notes: Big, huge, massive thanks to ximeria for being a
fantastic cheerleader for this fic, always ready to re-read the edits and
happy to listen to my moaning. 
Enormous kudos to nora_charles She alpha read this fic to within an inch
of its life. Then breathed NEW life into it. She is without doubt, one of
the best proofreader/editor/alpha/beta/gamma/delta readers I've ever
worked with. And finally huge hugs to bertybertle for the final beta (and
for noticing to problem with Ray's car among other things! Eagle eyes) You
guys are the best friends a gal could ask for.

 Story Notes: This fic features an ex boyfriend of Fraser's

 

 Unexpected By Nicci

 "Would you like more pierogi, Ray?"

 Across the table, Fraser held out the dish of small sauerkraut and
mushroom filled dumplings. Ray had already had way more than was good for
his waistline, but they were so damned good that he speared one. "Where'd
you learn to cook this shit, Frase?" he asked, surreptitiously helping
himself to the last of the placki ziemniaczane, which he shared with Dief
under the table.

 Fraser replaced the pierogi dish on its mat and leaned back in his chair.
"I simply checked a book out of the library on traditional Polish recipes,
Ray. I'm pleased you seem to be enjoying them."

 That was the understatement of the year. Ray hadn't had food this good
since last time his mum had cooked for him. Stella had tried but she just
didn't have the cooking gene. Then after she'd got her first internship,
they'd never seemed to be home at the same time so Ray had begun his
love/hate relationship with Sandor. Had the number on speed dial and
everything.

 And speaking of Sandor... "Why Polish food though?" Ray asked. "I would
have been happy enough with pizza and beer." Although this trip down a
culinary memory lane was way better than any pizza would have been even
with pineapple! 

 Fraser shook his head, smiling a little sadly. "Ray, we can do that any
evening. Tonight is my first night entertaining in my new apartment and I
wanted to make it a little more... special."

 Ray looked down at his empty plate guiltily. Damn! Open mouth...insert
foot. 

 They'd been back in Chicago for two months and the first thing to change
had been Fraser's willingness to bunk at the consulate. He'd asked Ray
once again to help him find suitable accommodation at a price he could
afford that allowed pets. 

 Say he's a dog, Frase. Trust me, no one is gonna allow a wolf in their
building

 And Ray had just been so damned surprised that Fraser actually wanted
this; wanted Chicago, and the consulate and their partnership more than he
wanted snow, and wilderness and wide open spaces, that he'd been afraid to
ask why. 

 Fraser was the most annoying guy on the planet, but he was also the best
friend Ray had ever had. The best partner too, and life without the
Mountie had been hard to imagine. So, he'd never had the guts to ask if
Fraser was here for good or if someday, Canada would claim him back like a
piece of oversized lost luggage. 

 This one-roomed apartment was the result of nearly two months of
searching. It was close enough to the consulate that Fraser could walk
there, but far enough away that he actually got some exercise doing it.
Fraser had brought what few possessions he owned with him, including his
rickety single cot, which was half hidden behind a curtain that separated
the sleeping alcove from the rest of the room.

 The place looked a little larger than Ray's own apartment, but that was
probably just an illusion on account of Fraser having almost no furniture
to fill the space. A table, two chairs, a battered old sofa, a bookcase, a
television set, a wooden chest and a standard lamp. Fraser didn't seem to
need much. 

 "You've uh... done a great job with the place," Ray winced at the clich.
"Very... homey." 

 Fraser blushed. "Why thank you, Ray. It's kind of you to notice."

 And now that he was looking, Ray could see the effort Fraser had gone to,
to make this dump liveable. Pictures hiding peeling wallpaper, rugs
covering bare floorboards, curtains concealing cracked and ill-fitting
windows. There was even a vase of fresh cut flowers on the wooden chest.
It might not be the Ritz, but it was home. Way better than the cupboard in
the consulate Fraser had existed in before.

 "So, you're planning on staying a while?" Ray blurted, immediately
horrified that his mouth had taken the conversational ball and run with
it. That sounded way too needy. 

 Fraser's fork froze half way to his mouth. Ray was sure he could feel the
blood draining out of his face and wanted nothing more than to bang his
head against the table. Stupid, stupid mouth! Why couldn't he just have
kept it shut? 

 It was suddenly very obvious that there was more into this meal than
Fraser wanting to play host in his new apartment. Maybe this was Fraser's
way of breaking the bad news that he was going home. Ray wasn't hungry
anymore. He dropped his fork onto his plate and braced himself for the
inevitable.

 Which was right about the time that someone started banging on the door.

 Ray glanced at Fraser in confusion. It was after nine. Who would be
calling this late? Fraser looked equally at a loss. He got to his feet,
placing his napkin on the table and excusing himself, like the good,
polite Mountie that he was. Dief barked and thumped his tail happily
against the floor, which probably meant that the caller was someone he
knew.

 Ray let out the breath he'd been holding. Any interruption had to be
better than the words that would have come out of Fraser's mouth. He
needed time to get his tough guy mask back in place.

 Ray swiveled round in his seat to watch as Fraser peered through the
peephole, gasped in surprise and unlatched the safety chain. Then Fraser
was being propelled backwards by the intruder until he hit the central
supporting pillar. The only reason Ray didn't immediately launch himself
on Fraser's attacker was because the guy, far from harming Fraser, seemed
to be kissing the shit out of him. 

 Ray watched in amazement as Fraser received the sloppiest, wettest, kiss
he'd ever seen in real life (as opposed to in some x-rated porn movie that
is.) It was all tongues, and teeth, and hands all over the place. There
was grunting (the big guy) and gasping (Fraser) and bodies moving against
each other. Ray couldn't drag his eyes away. The guy was big, bigger than
Fraser by maybe two inches and several pounds, but he was fit. Ray could
see muscles bulging under the sleeves of his sweatshirt. And he was
kissing Fraser. Like he'd done it before. And wasn't that just a kick in
the head?

 The thought that Fraser might have kissed this guy; kissed any guy
before, was making absolutely no sense inside Ray's head and was the
impetus to break the spell. He looked down at Dief who gazed back up at
him and seemed to roll his eyes before trotting over to get in on the
action.

 Ray was wondering whether he should clear his throat or drop a fork to
get their attention, when the guy released Fraser's mouth with a wet pop.
"Jesus, Ben! You're a hard guy to find." Dief barked and wagged his tail
unashamedly as the guy scratched behind his ears. "Hey Diefenbaker. Still
my biggest fan, eh?" 

 This was what Fraser had been working up to? He was softening Ray up to
meet his... what? Boyfriend? Lover? Fuck! Ray tried to wipe the 'deer in
the headlights' look off his face. He should have known about this. They'd
been partners, friends, shared down time, shared a fucking tent for nearly
three months in the fucking Yukon Areas! How come he'd never guessed? How
come Fraser had never told him that he liked... that he was...

 Ray couldn't even bring himself to think the words.

 Fraser licked his lips, dragged his eyes away from the newcomer to look
pointedly over at his dinner companion. The big guy followed his gaze, saw
that they were not alone, and released Fraser's shirtfront, letting him
slide back to the floor. "Shit! Um, that wasn't... I mean, it's not the
way it looked. Old joke between Benton and me. That's right, eh, Ben?"

 Ray lowered himself back into his chair. He was sure he was managing to
come across as faintly amused rather than sick to his stomach. "Whatever,"
he croaked. 

 Fraser was looking absolutely mortified. "Ray, this is Mark Smithbauer,
an old... friend from Inuvik."

 The emphasis on the word friend wasn't lost on Ray. He narrowed his eyes.
These guys' history went way back. Even before the Mountie had come to
Chicago on the search of the killers of his yada, yada, yada.

 "Mark, this is Ray Kowalski. My partner."

 Give the big guy his due, he recovered from the shock way faster than Ray
would have given him credit for. He crossed the room, hand extended in
greeting, so Ray did the decent thing and got to his feet to shake hands
and make nice with the guy who, scant seconds ago had been sucking on
Fraser's tongue. 

 "Didn't we meet before?" Smithbauer asked, giving Ray the up and down
treatment. "I thought you were taller, with less hair, eh? Couldn't skate
to save your life."

 "That was Ray Vecchio, my previous partner," Fraser explained, finally
managing to look Ray in the eye. "And that was two years ago, Mark."

 Ray dropped Smithbauer's hand as soon as the crushing pressure of the
guy's grip abated. He deliberately didn't try to rub the circulation back
into it. Your name's kinda familiar," he mused. So was his face but Ray
just couldn't place it. Usually he was really good with faces, but right
now, he doubted he could recognize his own in a mirror. 

 "I played a little hockey before the knee gave out." Smithbauer shrugged.
"I coach now. Mostly high school kids."

 Jeez! Of course! In his defense, it was easy to see how Ray might not
have placed the guy right away. It wasn't every day you expected to see
one of the Blackhawks best playing tonsil hockey with your partner.

 Part of Ray wanted to smack the guy for manhandling Fraser but another
part wanted to ask for his autograph.

 "I guess I should have called, eh?" Mark was saying playfully.

 "Well, I don't have a phone yet, and even if I did, how could you
possibly know..." Fraser trailed off, quietly closed the door and leaned
back against it, arms folded tightly around himself. "Mark, what are you
doing here?"

 Smithbauer lowered himself into Fraser's vacated chair. "I'm in town for
a couple of days, Ben. Went by your old apartment block. It's a mini-mart
now?"

 Fraser didn't move from the doorway. "It burned down a couple of years
ago. I lived at the Consulate until recently."

 "I went by the Consulate too. It's a bank." 

 "They moved the Consulate two years ago also. I assume you managed to
find out its new location?"" 

 Ray had to give the guy points for tenaciousness. A lesser man might have
given up before now. Yet there he sat, large as a rhino and twice as
horny. 

 Smithbauer picked up a piece of pierogi from Fraser's abandoned plate and
sniffed it suspiciously. "Yeah, and your Constable Turnbull gave me your
address. So, did I um... did I interrupt something?"

 Ray got to his feet. He had to get the fuck out of here. He had to get
his head wrapped around the idea that Fraser had a history with a famous
hockey player that involved kissing and probably much more. He had to get
himself a stiff drink in a seedy bar and maybe start a good old fashioned
bar room brawl until someone gave him a black eye. That kind of pain he
could cope with.

 "Nah, it's cool. We were done. Nice meeting you," Ray nodded in
Smithbauer's general direction without actually looking at him.

 "You're not leaving," Fraser said, in a tone that made it absolutely
clear it wasn't a question.

 Ray grabbed his coat from the rack by the door. Three was definitely a
crowd, and seeing as how Fraser probably got less sex than Ray did, which
was practically zero right now, Ray wasn't about to be the fly in the
Crisco. "You two got catching up to do," he smiled weakly. "Thanks for the
food." And then he couldn't think of anything else to say, so he bolted
out of the door, before he was tempted to do something stupid. Like punch
Fraser's big Canadian boyfriend on his big Canadian nose.

 "Ray... Ray, wait!"

 Fraser's voice followed him along the corridor, but he didn't stop,
didn't turn around. Couldn't. Not if his life had depended on it. 

 He'd seen the way Fraser's eyes had fluttered closed when Smithbauer had
kissed him. Seen the way his body had gone lax. Like he'd not been kissed
in forever and he needed it. Needed it more than the air he breathed. Ray
remembered how it felt to need something that bad. 

 If Smithbauer was what Fraser needed tonight, then Ray wasn't gonna get
in the way. He left the GTO where it was parked and strode off in the
direction of a little bar he remembered from his Stella days, where the
barman knew better than to ask questions and always knew when to call Ray
a taxi.

 ***

 Ray threw back his third double malt and lit up another smoke. His throat
was raw and he would probably be coughing up a lung for the next few
weeks, but he didn't care. His throat might hurt, but the rest of him was
starting to get pleasantly numb. Which was the whole plan. 

 He figured one more should just about be enough to stop the memory of
that searing kiss from replaying itself over and over inside his brain.
Nodding to the barman, he threw some cash down and took another deep drag
of his cigarette.

 "Those things'll kill you," a voice from behind him said in a thick
Canadian accent. 

 Ray didn't bother turning around. He knew who was there. "How'd you find
me?"

 Smithbauer flopped down onto the barstool next to Ray and snorted. "Get
over yourself. I wasn't looking for you. I was looking for a drink and
this is the closest bar to Fraser's place."

 This was very true. The barman came over with Ray's whiskey and placed it
on a mat. "What can I get you, sir?"

 Smithbauer jabbed a finger at Ray's glass. "I'll have what he's having.
Make it a double. I got some catching up to do."

 Ray picked up his whiskey and swirled it around for a bit before taking a
sip. He glanced sidelong at Smithbauer, trying to work out if enough time
had elapsed from when he'd run out on Frase, for them to have had sex.
Probably not, although what did he know about how long it took gay guys to
get it on? Still, there had to be some sort of foreplay didn't there? 

 "Lover's tiff, was it?" he sneered.

 "Fuck you!"

 "Not if you were the last person on Earth, buddy." 

 Smithbauer snorted. "Why does that not surprise me?"

 "What's that supposed to mean?" Ray growled.

 The bartender materialized with Smithbauer's drink then disappeared just
as quickly to the other end of the bar to clean glasses when he saw the
tension between the two men. Smithbauer downed the drink in one, choking a
little as the alcohol hit the back of his throat. "Means that I know your
kind. People like you make me sick. Is it any wonder Ben chose not to tell
you?"

 "You calling me a homophobe?" Ray asked. 

 Smithbauer waved the bartender over again. "Oh, you really don't want me
to get started on this subject, Kowalski. Might come to blows."

 Ray hid a sneer. That was kinda what he was hoping for. Ray took a really
good look at the guy. Sure he was built. He'd been a professional athlete
and they had to be super fit, but to look at, he was no oil painting. Nose
a little too long; eyes a little too close together. Of course Fraser
wouldn't be so shallow as to be attracted to looks alone. There had to
more to the guy than met the eye.

 Ray looked up when the bartender appeared. "Two more, and keep 'em
coming." Once the drinks were on the bar, Ray swung round on his stool a
little unsteadily and narrowed his eyes. "Lets get something clear, here,
buddy. I got no problem with gays. What you do in the privacy of your own
homes is your own business. I just don't like having to watch it!"

 Smithbauer slammed down his glass, spilling whiskey over his hand and the
counter. "I saw your face! You looked like you were gonna hurl. And what's
more, buddy, Ben saw it too. You really fucked up with him tonight!"

 Ray was off his seat and right in Smithbauer's face. "Frase and me are
good. We're tight. Best buddies. You ain't even a ripple in that pond, you
big fucking queer!"

 "Um gentlemen?" The barman had come out from behind the bar and was
gently trying to insert his body between the two men. "I think you should
take this outside."

 "Yeah," Smithbauer sneered. "Bring it on. Lets see what moves you got."

 In the alley, Ray carefully took off his coat and laid it on a dumpster.
Without his glasses, and after several double whiskeys, all he could see
of Smithbauer was a blurry outline. But he wasn't gonna let the guy get
away with calling him homophobic. He managed to land a lucky punch, but
Smithbauer swung right back and Ray was seeing stars.

 Abandoning any further attempt to punch his opponent, Ray lurched forward
and wrapped his arms around him, trying to squeeze the life out of him. Or
maybe he was just hanging on for grim death, because it felt like his legs
had gone numb somewhere between here and the bar. Smithbauer grunted as
the momentum carried them both backwards and slammed him into the wall.

 They grappled unsteadily for a while, grunting and swearing, with Ray
refusing to give an inch to the bigger man. Ray was like a limpet and Mark
was the rock. The thought made Ray giggle, which was his undoing, because
his distraction allowed Smithbauer to shove him away hard. Ray took a
frantic swing at him, missing completely and leaving himself wide open for
the roundhouse that felled him.

 Lying in a puddle and nursing his sore jaw, Ray felt more that a little
put out. Smithbauer had been a professional hockey player. He was fitter,
stronger and several whiskeys more sober than Ray, would it have killed
him to stand still and let Ray punch him like a gentleman?

 Then there was a hand waving in front of his face so he took it and
allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. Smithbauer handed him his coat,
swiping at the somewhat soggy seat of Ray's pants. "Sorry. I get a little
defensive of him. We go way back."

 Ray shrugged unsteadily into his coat. Now that the fight had been quite
literally knocked out of him, he didn't feel nearly so belligerent towards
the big guy. He'd been looking out for Fraser. Who could blame him for
that? Ray had been angry, but he'd been angry with the wrong person. Mark
wasn't any more to blame for this than Ray was. 

 Smithbauer was looking a little lost now that the fight was over. He was
leaning back against the alley wall with his hands in his pockets like he
had nowhere to go. 

 "You got somewhere to stay?" Ray surprised himself by asking.

 "Nah, I was expecting to be staying with Ben. Are there any hotels near
by?"

 Ray chewed on his lip before coming to a decision. "I got a sofa you're
welcome to."

 "Hey, are you coming on to me?"

 Ray was about to try for another swing at Smithbauer when he recognized
the humor in his voice. "In your dreams, pal. I'll let you pay for the
taxi."

 Smithbauer smiled and patted Ray on the shoulder. "So, you don't mind
having a 'big fucking queer' sleeping in your apartment?"

 Ray felt his face flush with embarrassment. He wished he could take back
the horrible words, but he couldn't. He could apologize, but he wouldn't.
Not yet. Not until he knew the guy a little better. "I sleep with a gun
under my pillow. I think I'm safe."

 Smithbauer nodded in agreement. "You're also not my type. But the gun
thing? Totally noted."

 ***

 "I was 10 when we moved to Inuvik. I'd been born and raised in Vancouver
so I fucking hated having to live in a backwater place like that," Mark
said, staring into his mug. They were drinking coffee at the breakfast bar
in Ray's apartment. Ray's idea. He needed to sober up. 

 "There were only three other boys in my class and Fraser was the only one
my age. Didn't like him much at first mind you. He was way too uptight."

 Ray snorted and took another drag of his very last cigarette. "Nothin's
changed then?" He had to concentrate really hard on what the guy was
saying. He talked fast and what with the Canadian accent, and Ray's
elevated alcohol levels, he was having some trouble keeping up.

 Mark swirled the dregs of his coffee around. "Yeah, he's still uptight.
Still goes to bed at seven. A grown man in bed by seven without the
promise of sex? Guy's a freak of nature."

 "Yeah, that's Frase alright. And when he gets it into his head he's right
about something, he's like... like a dog with a bone."

 "Does he still do the Inuit stories? Those fucking things drove me nuts!"

 "Me too!" They were both grinning now. Ray realized he liked having
someone around who knew Fraser's idiosyncrasies as well as he did. "I
swear, my eyes glaze over when he says something like, 'You know, Ray, the
Inuit have a story about a pink-footed goose, an Arctic Tern and a Caribou
embroiled in a tragic love triangle much like this one...'"

 Mark shook his head fondly. "Still, you gotta admit, they guy is hot. And
stamina? Don't get me started on that."

 Ray had no intention of getting him started on that. "So you and him? You
were like... boyfriends back in Inuvik?" Ray blurted. "You were um...
intimate?" 

 Mark almost choked on his coffee. "Jesus, no! My folks moved us back to
Vancouver when I was thirteen. Ben and me didn't even know what our dicks
were for back then. Don't get me wrong - we were close. Damned near broke
my heart when I had to leave him behind, but it wasn't until I ran into
him in a liquor store in Chicago two years ago that we... got acquainted
in that way."

 Ray was sure he didn't want to hear any more details. The details he
already did have were making him squirm. Mark loved to talk about himself
though, so it was easy enough for Ray to steer the focus of the
conversation away from his partner. "Had you.... Um? Were there other
guys...?"

 "Yeah. I knew I was gay by the time I signed for the Hawks. You don't get
to wallow in denial for long when you spend a lot of time in locker rooms
with half naked guys."

 "Heh, yeah, I guess not!" Ray snorted, getting to his feet. He'd never
had that problem. He'd never so much as kissed a guy before. Never wanted
to. It had been girls all the way for Ray. Sure, he'd wondered. It was
natural to wonder. But every time he'd looked at a guy and wondered, his
father's disapproving face had flashed into his mind and he'd looked the
other way. 

 Come to think of it, the same thing had happened when he'd looked at
girls, but he'd gotten over that when the Stella exploded into his life. 

 "You're wondering if I corrupted innocent little Ben, aren't you?" Mark
grinned.

 "No!" Ray spluttered, although that very thought had just drifted across
his mind. Lots of things seemed to be crossing his mind lately. "I already
know more than I want to about Fraser's sexual high jinks."

 "So what? He hasn't changed. Does it really matter that he likes to get
fucked by men occasionally?" 

 Ray felt himself grow red and decided to blame it on the booze. "Jesus,
Smithbauer!" Some mental images he could really do without. And anyway,
that sentence didn't sit well with him. It made Fraser sound desperate.
"Maybe that's what you like to do," he said. "But Fraser? He don't do
casual."

 Smithbauer grinned and tossed back the last of his coffee. "Yeah, so I
discovered. He said at his age, he needed something a little more
permanent than a couple of hours of passion once every two years."
Smithbauer looked at him closely, deep in thought for a moment. "You're a
good friend to him, Ray. He's lucky to have you."

 Ray snorted rudely. "Hey - you sure you're not coming on to me?"

 Smithbauer yawned, and stretched his hands over his head, making his back
crack loudly. "You really think you're something else don't you, Ray?
Trust me, your lily-white ass is safe. Thanks for the use of the sofa."

 "Anytime. I mean that. Just call first. Unlike some people, I do have a
phone!"

 Ray used the bathroom, swallowed a couple of painkillers and drank about
a gallon of water in an attempt to stave off the inevitable hangover and
then collapsed onto his unmade bed.

 But sleep was slow to come, and when it did, his dreams were disturbing.
He woke before dawn, drenched in sweat and panting like he'd run a
marathon. Staggering to the bathroom he threw up, clinging weakly to the
toilet bowl until his head stopped spinning. Vestiges of half remembered
terrors still floated around his head, and he swore by all that was holy,
he would never touch whiskey again. 

 Eventually, he went back to bed and lay listening to Smithbauers' snores,
and the noise of traffic on the streets below. He was tired, but fought
the urge to sleep, unwilling to have the dream return.

 After a while, he heard movement from the living room but he was
reluctant to show his face until he was sure no signs of his earlier
distress remained on it. He wondered if Smithbauer would want something to
eat, and if he had anything to offer that was more substantial than coffee
and three day old pizza. He was mentally composing a shopping list when
Mark yelled "Hey, Kowalski? Bathroom's free."

 Ray emerged from his bedroom to find Smithbauer rummaging around in the
kitchen. "Do you have any actual food at all?" Mark asked.

 "I got some eggs in the fridge. Maybe some bacon, if it ain't past its
sell by date." 

 "Great, I'll do omelet's while you take a shower, eh?"

 Ray nodded and ducked into the bathroom, sticking his head back out to
add, "Put on a pot of coffee too, will ya?"

 Smithbauer shook his head but filled the pot nonetheless.

 It amused Ray to think that most times he'd brought someone home to spend
the night, he'd had to cook them breakfast the next morning. Gay guys were
definitely less high maintenance than women. Maybe there was something to
be said for that lifestyle after all?

 The omelets were surprisingly good and the coffee was nice and strong.
Ray was on his second cup when Mark decided to bring up the subject of
Fraser again. "Hey, listen, Ray. About what happened at Ben's place? I'm
really sorry you had to find out that way, but I need to know that you're
not gonna go all weird on him because he likes guys as well as girls."

 Ray met Mark's eyes over the rim of his cup. "What kind of a dick do you
take me for? Fraser's my friend. Like you said, I know all the important
stuff about him already. What team he bats for don't mean squat to me." 

 Mark stared at him for a long moment. "There have to be a ton of things
you want to know, and I'd bet my best stick you won't ask him any of them.
Will you?"

 Ray didn't answer. Sure there were questions. He wondered how long Fraser
had known he liked guys, how he'd found it out, how he'd coped with the
knowledge, and how it felt to surrender yourself to someone like that...
but he'd sooner cut off his balls with a rusty knife than ask any of them.

 "Look, Ben doesn't have a lot of real friends. Talk to him, Ray. Don't
fuck this up."

 "Okay, Jesus! You sound like my mother, except she don't have such a
potty mouth," Ray complained. "I'll talk to him. I swear."

 "Good." Mark got up and reached for his jacket. "Listen, thanks for
putting me up last night. I'll grab a taxi back to my hotel. Any time
you're in my neck of the woods, give me a whistle, eh? I'll take you
clubbing."

 Ray snorted. "Your sort of clubs, I can do without. But there is
something you could do for me."

 Mark raised an eyebrow suggestively. Ray rolled his eyes and went over to
the closet. After a bit of rummaging, he emerged triumphantly holding a
Blackhawks baseball cap in his hand. "Sign my hat?"

 ***

 Ten minutes later, Ray was trotting down the stairs on his way to pick up
a taxi of his own. His car was still abandoned outside Fraser's place. He
was thinking about what the hell he would say to Fraser when he arrived at
the station that afternoon. That is, if he showed up at all. He might
still be embarrassed about the whole kissing thing, which was not cool.
They needed to get this all cleared up and move on. Ray wanted nothing
more than to get things back the way they had been before. 

 He barreled out of the door and right into the very person he'd been
thinking about.

 "Oof!" Ray staggered backwards, impacting with the doorframe. "Jesus,
Fraser, what the hell are you doing here?" It was 8am. Far too early for a
social call. Unless of course, Fraser had been up half the night like Ray
had.

 And actually, Fraser did look weird. Ray couldn't put his finger on it,
but there was something amiss with the Mountie and you didn't have to be a
detective to feel it. He'd been worried that Fraser would seem different
to him next time they met, but this was more than a perception shift.
Fraser's face was pale, and he had a haunted look about him. 

 Ray peered at him closely. "You seen a ghost? 

 Fraser blinked and seemed to pull himself together. "Of course not, Ray.
That would just be silly. I ah, I brought your car back and as I'm not
needed at the Consulate today, I thought I would offer my services. My...
my liaising services that is."

 Yup, something was definitely screwy, but this was hardly the place to
give Fraser the third degree. Plus he had been kind enough to drive the
goat all the way over here, no doubt sticking to the posted speed limits
the whole way. "Yeah, okay, thanks." he said.

 They drove the first few miles in silence. Ray had decided to let Fraser
make the first move but he seemed as reluctant as Ray to start the ball
rolling. He'd almost given up hope when Fraser cleared his throat. 

 "Ray, where did you go last night? After you left my apartment, did you
go straight home?"

 Ray glanced sideways. Fraser was staring intently out of the window, so
Ray couldn't get a good look at his face. It was an odd question, but at
least he was talking. "Went to a bar," Ray admitted. "Got shit faced and
spent the early hours of the morning speaking to Ralf on the Great White
Telephone."

 He expected Fraser to admonish him on the perils of excessive alcohol,
but the man in the seat next to him was clearly a pod-person because he
said instead, "I'm sorry, Ray."

 "You're sorry? What the hell you got to be sorry for? You didn't force
all that whiskey down my throat."

 Fraser turned troubled eyes on him. "But I may as well have. Honestly,
Ray, if you hadn't had to witness such a... disturbing scene between Mark,
and myself would you have drank to such excess? I think not."

 Ray sighed deeply. Fraser was feeling guilty. And maybe he wanted Fraser
to feel a little guilt. After all, if only he'd trusted Ray with his big
secret, then he might have been a bit more prepared for what he'd seen
last night. 

 "Look, Fraser. We got a full day ahead of us. We can't get into this
right now. I was feeling sorry for myself. I drank too much. It happens.
Let's leave it at that for now?"

 Another mile or so of silence slipped by. Then Fraser took a deep breath.
"Did you... were you...?" 

 Ray steadfastly watched the road rather than giving into the temptation
of watching Fraser squirm. "Did I what?" he asked, trying to keep his
voice even, when Fraser fell silent.

 "Nothing," came the tense response. "It's really none of my business who
you take home with you, after all."

 Now that got Ray's full attention. Fraser sounded downright pissy, and
what right did he have to get bent out of shape over something like that?
After all, he wasn't Ray's boyfriend. 

 Before Ray could work up a head of steam over it, a call came over the
radio for all cars in the vicinity to attend a robbery going down in a
local bookstore. Ray gave Fraser one good long look. "This conversation is
not over."

 ***

 "Hey, you still beating yourself up over this?" Ray asked. They were
heading back to Ray's car after the less than successful bookshop bust
leaving a trail of cabbage leaves and tissue paper in their wake.

 Fraser stared straight ahead as they walked, refusing to make eye
contact. "I was... distracted, Ray. Had I been more vigilant, we might
have avoided the inevitable plunge through a plate glass window that has
so typified our working relationship thus far." 

 "Oh, har-de har-har," Ray snapped. He wasn't really in the mood for
Fraser's attempts at humor right now. His shirt was torn, he had a cut lip
and by the feel of it, a rapidly swelling right eye. "I told you already
about a million times it wasn't your fault. I checked that broom closet
over myself and I didn't see him either. What makes you think you woulda
done better?"

 Ray unlocked the car and glared at Fraser over the roof.

 Fraser opened his mouth to say something no less than three times before
he finally settled on, "Well of course I don't think that, Ray. That would
be ridiculous."

 Ray knew Fraser well enough by now to tell that he was being humored, but
decided that this was neither the time nor the place to get into it. He
needed to get home, wash off some of the stink from the dumpster they had
landed in and maybe top up his depleted caffeine levels. 

 He opened the door to let Dief in, then quickly shut it again before the
wolf could carry the spoils of his own adventure in the alley inside.
"Lose the rat, fuzzface, or you're walking home."

 Dief delicately dropped the dead rodent at Ray's feet, clearly indicating
that it had been meant as a gift, but if Ray didn't appreciate the
gesture, then fine. His loss. 

 Fraser barely looked up until Ray was pulling up outside his apartment,
and then it was only to raise an eyebrow in query.

 "You and me gotta talk, Fraser," Ray said without making any attempt to
get out of the car. 

 "We can't talk at the station?" 

 Ray slammed his hands down on the steering wheel making Diefenbaker whine
and lick his ear. "Get off, mutt!" He batted the concerned wolf away
gently and turned off the engine. "Okay. You invite me round for dinner,
your boyfriend shows up and all but fucks you right in front of me and you
start acting queer about what I did with the rest of my evening. You
really wanna have that conversation at the stationhouse, Frase?"

 Finally Fraser managed to look him in the eye. "I can't apologize
enough."

 "Shut up, Fraser," Ray sighed. "You're off duty tomorrow, there's at
least one pair of your jeans here, and I'm sure I can find a t-shirt
that'll stretch to fit."

 "I have no shoes."

 Ray raised his hand to strike the wheel again, but somehow he managed to
stop himself. "That all you gotta say? You have no shoes?" Fraser wasn't
looking at him again. It had been a lame excuse and they both knew it.
"Things are happening here, Fraser. Big things. Things you and me gotta
sort out before there's a huge ... huge...."

 "Chasm?"

 "Chasm, right, right! Exactly!" Ray stabbed his index finger into
Fraser's chest pocket repeatedly. "And cosy though it was, I ain't in no
hurry to spend any more time in a chasm with you, buddy." 

 Fraser closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "Of course you're not,
Ray. I understand. Shall we get this over then?" And without waiting for
an answer, he got out of the car.

 ***

 "Okay, gimme five to wash off some of this stink, and then we talk."

 Fraser nodded, tossing his hat, the only part of his uniform that had
remained unsoiled from their fall, onto the coffee table. Ray half
wondered if Fraser would still be there when he got out of the shower, but
short of locking the front door and taking the key into the bathroom with
him, there was nothing Ray could do but trust him.

 It was the fastest shower Ray had ever had and as he toweled dry his
hair, he was relieved to hear Fraser opening and closing the kitchen
cabinets. Probably rearranging Ray's spice jars into alphabetical order
like he'd done the last time Ray left him alone in there for more than a
minute.

 Emerging from the bathroom wrapped in a long bathrobe, Ray immediately
smelled coffee. Damn, but Fraser knew him too well. 

 Fraser turned at his approach and gulped, pressing back against the
counter wide-eyed with trepidation. Ray supposed he probably did look
kinda fierce, but hell, there was a mug of steaming coffee in Fraser's
hand and Ray had designs on it. 

 "Candy?" he asked hopefully.

 Fraser handed the cup over with a relived sigh and reached for the mug of
bark tea he'd made for himself. "Naturally."

 Ray took a long sniff of the steaming liquid and blinked at Fraser
happily. "I could kiss you!"

 Fraser had been taking a sip of the tea, and only just avoided snorting
it up his nose. 

 Which kinda diffused the awkwardness Ray had been feeling about a
nanosecond after the words had come out of his mouth, because shit! You
don't tell your suddenly gay partner that you want to kiss him. Not that
Ray did. Want to kiss him. Not that it would be totally disgusting or
anything. Fraser had nice lips. He was probably a good kisser. Not that
Ray wanted to know that. Not really....

 Ray shook his head and grabbed the mug of coffee to hide his
embarrassment. "So, what's with the first aid kit?" He tipped his head
towards the medical supplies strewn on the counter. 

 Fraser picked up the bowl of water and some gauze. "Well, I need to tend
to your injuries, Ray."

 They had both gotten one or two cuts when they'd dived out of the window,
which Ray had become even more painfully aware of in the shower on account
of how they had stung like a bastard. If anything, Fraser looked more
banged up than Ray. It was kinda weird to see that Fraser hadn't even
attempted to clean himself up. Like he didn't care. And there was no way
Ray would let him get away with that. "Okay, but do me a favor?"

 "Anything, Ray"

 Ray tried to ignore how desperate that had sounded. How needy. "Shower
first. You stink, buddy."

 "Oh! Of course." Fraser looked down at his filthy red serge and seemed to
notice for the first time that it was less than pristine. "My apologies."
He hurried into the still steamy bathroom. 

 Ray waited until he heard the water running then leaned against the door
frame. "And once you're done playing doctor, I'll do you the same favor,
okay?" 

 Fraser stuck his head around the door. "I beg your pardon?"

 "Unless you hadn't noticed, you're pretty banged up too, Fraser. We can
do each other."

 The look of total shock on Fraser's face as he fled back into the
bathroom was enough to make Ray bite back a snort of laughter. This thing
with Fraser, it was totally fucked up. But if he could still tease Fraser,
if they still had that when all the talking was done and dusted, then
maybe there was still a chance for their duet.

 ***

 Fraser was dressed in old jeans and one of Ray's stretched t-shirts, with
his hair combed, his cuts cleaned, and two cups of tea in him before Ray
finally lost patience with his blatant stall tactics.

 "Look, Frase. It's late and I cleaned my fridge out last week. Sit down
will ya? "

 Fraser withdrew his head from the bowels of the refrigerator. "Matters of
hygiene should never be put off, Ray. There's a piece of cold pizza stuck
to the back that looks like it's been here for years." 

 "Got pineapple on?"

 "Hard to tell, Ray. Mostly it's green." Dief whined and licked his lips
hopefully. "Not even you would want to eat this Diefenbaker. Trust me."

 Ray sighed. "Okay, so I haven't cleaned it in a while, but leave it will
ya? We got stuff to talk over. I'd really like to have his conversation
with your face, not your ass." 

 Fraser withdrew quickly, managing to hit his head on the way out, and sat
down heavily on said ass.

 Ray took the opportunity to grab Fraser by the elbow and herd him to the
sofa, shoving him down onto it before parking himself on the coffee table
directly in front.

 Fraser was chewing on his lower lip, clasping his hands together in his
lap.

 "Okay. First things first, Frase. I want you to know, that whole thing
with Mark... Smithbauer I mean - the kissing thing. You don't need to
worry about that."

 Fraser's eyes snapped up to meet Ray's. "I don't?"

 "Nah. I wasn't freaked." Which was a lie and they both knew it but Ray
was trying to be magnanimous here.

 Fraser frowned. "You weren't?"

 "Okay, maybe a little. I mean it was a shock. I didn't know. Hell of a
way to find out, you know?"

 Fraser watched Ray warily. 

 "So anyway, I just wanted you to know. I'm fine with it. Nothing's
changed." 

 Fraser's eyes dropped to the vicinity of Ray's knees again. He took a
deep breath. Let it out. Took another. "Nothing, Ray?"

 Okay, it was a fair question. His perception of who Fraser was might have
wobbled a bit, but it hadn't changed. 

 "Nothing that matters," Ray replied, putting every shred of certainty he
possessed into his voice. 

 Fraser blinked and nodded, even managing a weak smile. "Thank you, Ray.
That means a great deal to me."

 Ray reached out and gently squeezed Fraser's shoulder. "That's good.
That's greatness, Frase. Now, you wanna tell me about the whole twenty
questions thing in the car this morning?"

 Fraser sighed and closed his eyes. "I believed that you and Mark had
been... intimate." 

 Ray's mouth fell open. If Fraser hadn't looked so vulnerable right then,
Ray might even have laughed at the absurdity of it. "Are you unhinged?" he
spluttered. 

 "I saw him come out of your apartment block. His hair was wet and... "

 "Jesus, Frase. Based on that you thought I'd fucked him?" Ray's head was
pounding. This didn't make any sense. Fraser was clearly delusional. Where
had he gotten the idea that Ray might be into guys? "He walked into the
bar, we got talking, I offered him my couch for the night. He's an
arrogant prick who can't deliver a decent slap shot these days, but he's
an okay guy." Ray leaned down and tried to catch Fraser's eye. "Why the
hell would you think I'd sleep with any guy, far less him?" 

 Fraser had gone red. "Of course you wouldn't, Ray. I don't know what's
come over me. I seem to be making a fool of myself at every turn. I should
go..."

 "Oh no you don't!" Ray placed his hands firmly on Fraser's knees,
preventing from standing up. "What the fuck is going on here, Fraser?" 

 Fraser went, if anything, even redder. His voice, when he finally spoke
was pitched so low that Ray had to lean closer to hear.

 "Mark came to my apartment last night for sex, Ray. When he didn't get it
from me, I assumed he would go looking elsewhere. I saw him come out of
your apartment the next morning and made some rather bizarre assumptions.
I'm sorry."

 Ray sighed and scrubbed his hands through his hair. There were so many
questions he needed answered. So much he wanted to know. But one thing was
painfully obvious. Fraser's feelings for Smithbauer were anything but
casual. And yeah, love made you do crazy things sometimes. Witness the
whole 'ex-wife stalking' scenario.

 "Okay. Look. I didn't sleep with your boyfriend," Ray couldn't bring
himself to look Fraser in the eye either, because he'd already said he
wasn't freaked about this, and yet, one look and Fraser would be able to
see that for the lie it was. He was all sorts of freaked, "but Frase, if
you think he would go looking elsewhere when you say no... then maybe he
isn't the stand up guy you think he is." 

 Fraser leaned back against the couch and sighed too. "He isn't my
boyfriend. He isn't even my lover really. It's... it's hard to say what we
are to each other."

 Ray let out a snort. "I don't see you as a casual sex sort of guy, Frase.
Hell you run a mile when a woman smiles at you. Me? Oh, hell yeah. Casual
as you like. Had one marriage go bad on me and maybe I'm not ready to go
there again anytime soon, but I sure ain't no monk. So yeah, casual is my
middle name. But you?" 

 "You've been hurt in the past, Ray, I know that..."

 "No! Don't try to make this about me, Frase. This is about us. This is
about friendship, and partnership, and secrets, and lies." He stood up,
giving Fraser room to move if he needed to. "This is about coming clean.
Honesty, Fraser. The basis of every relationship. You don't got honesty?
You got nothing." 

 "Yes of course, Ray. You're absolutely right." Fraser leaned his head
back against the couch. "On our adventure I realized that I couldn't go on
pretending. We'd become so close, you and I. Sharing every hour, sharing
meals, sleeping right next to each other... It made me see that I needed
to tell you the truth, even if it meant the end of us. Last night... I had
hoped..."

 "Yeah, I figured something was screwy. The meal. The Martha Stewart
treatment of your apartment." Ray lifted the corner of the curtain and
stared out at the flashing neon light across the alley. "I thought maybe
you were planning on going back to Yukonsville. That you were trying to
soften the blow." Ray laughed mirthlessly. "I tell you, buddy, having you
come out of the closet and then introduce me to your boyfriend was the
last scenario on my mind."

 "No!" Fraser was suddenly on his feet and half way to Ray before Ray had
fully turned around. He looked stricken. "You don't understand! I didn't
even know Mark was in town. Last night, I was simply going to tell you
that I'm in love with you, and that I have been for quite some time."

 *** 

 Ray's heart skipped a beat. All he could hear was Fraser's words,
repeating themselves over and over inside his head. In love with you... in
love with you... in love...

 "Huh?" he croaked, letting the windowsill take his weight, because his
legs sure couldn't hack it. "Wait, wait. Hang on. I don't understand..."

 Fraser stopped a few inches from him, hands hovering in the air. His eyes
were huge. "Ray. Our friendship, our partnership... it means the world to
me. But I realize that by withholding my true feelings from you, I'm being
a coward." Fraser took one step closer, so that his breath ghosted over
Ray's face when he spoke. "Ray, I love you. I can't help that. Nor will I
apologize for it."

 Ray stood there, frozen to the spot, trying to make sense of it all. Was
Fraser expecting some sort of reply to that, because Ray was fucked if he
could think of anything to say. This was too damned much. He'd just gotten
over the shock of finding out Fraser was gay. He'd accepted it. Decided he
could live with it. That it really didn't matter. But this? This he didn't
know what to do with.

 And then he realized that Fraser was even closer than before, his face
looming right in front of Ray, tilted to the side and his eyes were
sliding closed and dear God in heaven, Fraser was going to kiss him, and
he couldn't fucking move. 

 It was Dief barking that made him snap out of it. Someone was knocking on
his door and Fraser had stopped moving. Ray edged past him, backed away,
undid the chain and opened the door, all without taking his eyes off
Fraser.

 "I think I left my keys here, eh?" Smithbauer asked, stepping past Ray
and into the middle of a very tense situation. He looked from Fraser to
Ray and back, then let out a muffled curse. "What the fuck have you been
saying to him, Kowalski?"

 Fraser was suddenly all action. He scooped up his hat and boots, and
shoved past them both without so much as a word of explanation. Part of
Ray wanted to call him back, and part was relived to see him go, so he
didn't do a damned thing. Smithbauer gave him a filthy look, snatched his
keys from the kitchen counter and hurried after the fleeing Mountie.

 Ray slammed the door shut and kicked it. 

 He sat in the dark staring at the unplugged television set for hours.
Curled up beside him on the sofa, Dief occasionally nuzzled his hand, but
Ray ignored him, until Dief's cold, wet nose made contact with his ear.
That snapped Ray right out of his fugue.

 "Okay, okay! What is it? You want out? Ya hungry? What?"

 Dief whined and laid his head in Ray's lap. 

 "None of the above, huh?" Ray reached down and scratched Dief's ears,
making the wolf's tail thump appreciatively.

 They sat in silence for a while; until Ray could put into words what he'd
been thinking all this time. It wasn't easy saying it out loud, but who
would hear him? The wolf was deaf. Allegedly.

 "It's not that he's gay," he said vehemently. "Not entirely anyway. I've
got nothing but respect for gays that are 'Out and Proud'. Takes a hell of
a lot of balls to do that. To stand up to your family, your friends,
people you gotta work with and say 'okay, I fuck men. Deal with it.' I
wish I had courage like that."

 Dief nudged his hand. Ray had momentarily forgotten that the important
thing here was to continue to scratch the wolf's ears. 

 "Okay. So. What's my problem? I'll tell you what my problem is; Frase? He
ain't out. He's so far in the closet, people hang coats on him. And all
this time, here was me thinking he's the closest thing to perfection on
the planet. I put him up on some pedestal and now... now I don't know any
more. He's like this regular guy all of a sudden. Like Clark Kent when he
takes off the Superman underpants. He's flawed and weak like the rest of
us, and I should have known that."

 Ray sighed and got up. He went to the kitchen and searched for something
to feed his companion. He found a can of stew and opened it.

 "But that doesn't even matter. That's just me having my nose outta joint.
It's just... well, he tells me he's in love with me! " Ray found an old
dish and upended the can, his every move followed by hungry eyes. 

 Ray stepped back and watched Dief make short work of what had been
intended as tomorrow's dinner. "If he were just gay, I could handle that.
I could compart-whats-its-name that and work with him and be his best
buddy. No worries. But this? I'll look at him and ... and wonder if he's
thinking about doing stuff to me. 'Cause you don't love someone and not
want to... you know... f-fuck them."

 Dief lifted his head long enough to give Ray a quizzical look. Ray took
that as an invitation to continue with his self-analysis. 

 "I can't be thinking about that stuff. I got a job to do. I fight bad
guys, and I gotta be tough, and scary. The guys at the station gotta
believe I've got their asses, not that I want  their asses!

 And then there's Stella. Jeez, I can just imagine what she would have to
say about it all. Another reason why Ray is a total fuck up. Then Stell
would out me to my mum, and, fuck  - I just made peace with my dad again
after years of cold shoulder treatment. "

 Ray dragged in a huge shaky lungful of air and let it out slowly. Way to
lose the plot Kowalski? What the hell had happened here? He'd been trying
to talk himself out of a fit of blatant homophobia, and managed to talk
himself into being Fraser's boyfriend? How the fuck did that happen?

 "I can't go down that route with him," he muttered, more to himself than
to the wolf. "But if I don't... maybe he runs. All the way back to the
frozen wilderness to set up housekeeping with some mad trapper, or a ...
an ex hockey player with eyes too fucking close together. I don't want to
lose him, Dief."

 Dief licked the dish clean and chased it into a corner. When there was
not so much as a drop of gravy left, he sat down and cocked his head
again.

 Ray rolled his eyes. "Jeez! I'm getting as bad as Fraser. All you care
about is sex, food and walkies, dontcha?"

 Dief's ears twitched forward and Ray grinned. "Deaf my ass. Come on,
furball. Once round the block. You talk too much." 

 Of course, a quick jog around the block took considerably longer than Ray
had anticipated on account of Diefenbaker having to stop and sniff every
lamppost en route, then mark his new territory with his own scent. Ray
marveled at just how much pee one wolf could produce.

 Leaning against the wall of a Seven Eleven trying to be patient while
Dief did his thing, Ray began to wish he hadn't smoked all his cigarettes.
He had no intention of starting up again, but this whole situation with
Fraser had him on edge. He figured a pack of smokes would do less harm in
the short run than drinking himself into the ground, so he pushed open the
door and went in.

 The guy behind the counter had obviously been taking advantage of a quiet
spell to stock some shelves, and was perched on top of a set of rickety
step ladders. "Nah, don't rush. I'm not in a hurry," Ray assured the guy,
who gratefully went back rearranging bottles of booze. 

 Ray wandered over to the magazines and picked up a copy of 'The Ring' and
flicked to the latest news and who was big in the boxing world. Man, he
was so out of touch. He'd never even heard of the latest upcoming star.
Working his way along the rack, he flicked through 'Autoracing' shiny,
'Men's Vogue',	Ha! Vecchio would so wear that.  'Flex',  Whoa, how do
guys even walk with thighs that big?  and finally something called
'Instinct'. At first he thought it was another magazine like Vogue, lots
of good-looking guys, wearing nice clothes and smiling big white smiles,
until he noticed the titles of some of the articles. 

 "Ten Things You Should Know about Butt Plugs!" Ray muttered, flipping the
cover shut to read the blurb on the front. "Damn!" He'd picked up a
fucking gay magazine. 

 "Okay buddy, ready when you are," the storekeeper called from behind the
counter. 

 Ray reached up to put the magazine back on the shelf. Hesitated. Reached
up again. Grabbed a copy of the Auto racing magazine and headed for the
counter.

 The guy didn't even blink at his two choices. "And gimme a pack of
Marlboro Lights,"

 Ray paid, stuffed the gay mag inside the Auto mag and made a hasty exit,
by which time Dief had moved on to christening hubcaps.

 ***

 Ray looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and groaned. It
wasn't even dawn yet but he'd abandoned any further attempts at sleep. He
looked like he hadn't gotten a wink. Which was almost true. When he
hadslept, his dreams were more the stuff of nightmares. 

 Parts had been undeniably erotic, involving massages and whispers and
soft breath on the back off his neck, but parts had been terrifying. He
remembered being restrained with cuffs, or ropes, being forced to do
something that he didn't want to do but couldn't recall. It had been
deeply disturbing. He'd woken with a hard-on but no desire to do anything
with it.

 Ray shook his head. He should never have bought the damned magazine. He'd
been totally freaked reading all the articles, but he hadn't been able to
stop himself. It was like some inner voice had been telling him that he
needed to know this stuff if he was going to make a go of it with Fraser.

 That made him laugh. Make a go of it? When had he decided that he was
going down that route after all? Did he ever have any real choice in this?
His relationship with Fraser had always been a runaway train. Ray had no
control over it. He never had. 

 There was a slight edge of excitement about it. A feeling of standing on
the edge of a cliff, scared shitless that the hang-glider would crash, but
buzzed enough on the adrenaline to jump anyway. 

 That is, if he could convince Fraser to be pals again, far less...
anything else.

 Later, en route to Fraser's place with Dief in the back, Ray tried to
practice what he would say.

 Fraser, I'm real pink about last night... nope!

  Fraser... Frase, I'm sorry I freaked about the whole kissing thing. If
you were gonna kiss me that is... you might not have been in which case...
shit!

 Howzabout you an' me, Frase? Doin' it. The wild thang. The deed. Bumping
uglies...the horizontal mambo... hiding the sausage... playing doctor...
sinking the soldier... ah fuckfuckfuck!

 If it sounded that bad inside his head, how was it going to sound out
loud? And Fraser was a master of words, a fucking maestro! Maybe this
wasn't such a great idea, but it was a moot point, because they were
there. Ray pulled up outside the apartment block and took a deep breath.

 "Okay. If all else fails, I'm just here to drop you off." 

 Dief wuffed supportively from the backseat. 

 Ray stood outside Fraser's door with his fist raised to knock. Dief sat
patiently, splitting his attention between Ray's face and the closed door.
Eventually, his deep need for breakfast got the better of his good manners
and he began to whine, which snapped Ray out of his panic coma.

 It seemed to take long time before he heard the chain sliding back. Ray
licked dry lips and braced himself for... Mark Smithbauer, rumpled, sleepy
and half naked, peering at him in surprise.

 Too late! He was too damned late. Smithbauer had played it like a pro and
taken full advantage of Fraser's vulnerability. That pissed Ray off beyond
the telling of it, but it also gave him a very valid reason to bolt. 

 Dief shoved past Mark's legs. "I um, I brought the wolf back," Ray stated
unnecessarily.

 Mark yawned and scratched his belly. "Cool."

 Ray took a step backwards, then another. "Tell Fraser..." What? Tell him
what? What was there left to say? "Tell him I said sorry. I'll call
later."

 Ray turned and made a hasty retreat. He was half way down the stairs when
a hand grabbed his shoulder and halted him in his tracks.

 "Whoa, Ray. Hold it." Smithbauer slipped past him and effectively blocked
his way down the stairs. "Come back up. We need to talk."

 Ray shook his head. No, they did not need to talk. Talking was the last
thing they needed to be doing. Mark had won. Canada had won. End of
fucking story. "Get out of my way."

 Smithbauer didn't budge. "It's not the way it looks, okay?" he assured
Ray, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, which Ray flinched back
from. "Nothing happened. He slept on his bedroll all night. Come on, Ray,
come back up?"

 Nothing happened? No sex? No... no nothing? Ray was having a hard time
believing that. Fraser had been so upset last night when he left. Upset
and vulnerable Fraser plus angry and protective Smithbauer equaled a
consolatory blowjob at the very least, surely?

 "I got... stuff to do," he hedged, wanting to hear more but not wanting
to want it.

 Mark reached out again, and this time Ray sagged, letting the hand make
contact with his shoulder. "He told me what happened last night," Mark
said softly. "He's in love with you, eh?"

 Ray closed his eyes. "I know."

 "Come on, Ray. Come back up?"

 Ray took a deep breath and nodded. No more games. He walked up the stairs
like a man going to the gallows.

 Inside the apartment, Ray saw no evidence that any sexual high jinx had
gone on. Smithbauer's clothes were folded and hanging over a chair next to
Fraser's rickety cot. Fraser himself was out for the count on the floor at
the foot of the bed. This apartment had a perfectly serviceable sofa, yet
he still chose the bedroll. Guy was a freak.

 Smithbauer drew him into the kitchen and pointed at the kettle. Ray shook
his head. He was still borderline freak out material here, he didn't need
to add caffeine to the equation. Mark poured himself a glass of water. "He
feels like shit you know?"

 Ray leaned back against the counter and scowled at Smithbauer. "What's he
got to feel shit about?" he hissed, trying to keep it down so as not to
wake the exhausted Mountie. "He ain't done nothing wrong."

 "That's what I tried to tell him, but you know Ben. He feels that he
tried to take advantage of you last night, and if I hadn't barged in when
I did, who knows what would have happened?"

 Ray stared down at the floor, arms wrapped tightly around himself. "It
was just... it was a shock. I didn't know. How could I know? I needed
time... some space to think things through."

 Smithbauer nodded, swallowed down his water and started to get dressed.
"Look, I need to get going. I have a charity match later and I need to get
back. Do not let him take the blame for everything, Ray, because you know
he'll try, eh? Oh, and make him drink plenty water when he wakes up."

 Ray looked at Smithbauer in disbelief. "He's been drinking?"

 "We polished off a bottle of Glenfiddock last night. That's why he's
slept though all this."

 Wow. Ray couldn't remember ever seeing Fraser drink alcohol. Once
Smithbauer had left, Ray dug out some breakfast for Dief, poured a glass
of water for Fraser and went to sit on the cot. 

 Fraser looked terrible. He was probably beginning to feel the effects of
the hangover. His hair was sticking up in random tufts and he stank of
booze. Superman without the pants, Ray smiled fondly. 

 Fraser groaned and rolled over, exposing his naked back to the elements.
Ray put the glass on the chest beside the cot and kicked off his shoes. He
needed to see if he could at least hack being in close proximity to a half
naked Fraser and in his present state, Ray figured he was no threat, plus
he was keeping his pants and t-shirt on.

 He lay down on the bedroll next to Fraser, pulled the scratchy blanket
over them both and squirmed as close as he could without actually
touching. Fraser groaned again and rolled onto his back.

 Ray propped his head on his hand and gazed down. Fraser was... well, not
beautiful exactly. But he would definitely not look out of place between
the covers of the Vogue magazine. He had the softest, clearest skin Ray
had ever seen on a guy, even with the beginnings of morning stubble
shading his jaw, and the longest eyelashes he'd ever seen outside a
mascara ad.

 Strong features. Manly features. Not at all how Ray had always though a
gay guy should look. Yeah, he'd bought into the stereotype, and he had to
rethink that. Look at Smithbauer. Big, butch, masculine athlete, and queer
as a coot. Go figure.

 Ray looked at Fraser's mouth. It was a nice mouth, as mouths went. He
really couldn't think of anything else to say about it. Except that when
Fraser smiled, sometimes, it just lit up his whole face. He should smile
more often. It was a shame to have a smile like that and not use it.

 Ray continued his inspection. Fraser's lips were nothing like a woman's.
Ray liked 'em soft and pouty. Fraser's were just guy lips. Then Fraser's
tongue darted out to moisten said lips and Ray got a sudden jolt in the
groin area. What the...? Okay that was unexpected. Ray continued to watch
Fraser's face, but nothing else happened and he figured it had just been a
coincidence. Nothing to freak about. Everything was cool. He was lying
curled up next to Fraser just like on the quest, and nothing had changed.
Except that Ray apparently had a thing for Fraser's tongue, but that was
neither here nor there.

 Ray lay down and closed his eyes. This was... okay. He could do this. He
could totally sleep with Fraser and if he could do that, maybe he could
manage more? Maybe he could give Fraser what he needed?

 Ray began to drift off to sleep with thoughts of Fraser licking stuff.
Shoes... dirt... oil... Ray's ear... oh yeah... hang on, that felt
like....

 "Fuck! Dief, get away from me!"

 Diefenbaker snorted and jumped up onto the cot. 

 Ray grinned and snuggled into Fraser's warm back. "Yeah, okay, mutt.
No-one else is using it so you might as well."

 ***

 "Oh, dear Lord..."

 Ray jolted awake at Fraser's words and was instantly disoriented. This
wasn't his bed, it wasn't even his floor, and that definitely wasn't his
blanket. In fact, it wasn't a blanket at all. It was Fraser.

 He was lying on his back, on the floor with Fraser draped all over him.
Fraser was heavy, and hot and... fuck, hard. That? That was a definite
boner he could feel poking him in the hip. No doubt about it. Shit! Okay,
okay don't panic. This is the sort of thing he was going to have to get
used to if he and Fraser were going to be together. And it didn't feel too
bad really. If he didn't think about it. It was just another part of
Fraser, like his fingers, or his feet or his... tongue.

 Fraser's face was pressed into the crook of Ray's neck and his hands were
balled up tight in Ray's t-shirt. And he was shaking like a leaf.

 "Frase?" Ray croaked, wishing he'd left the glass of water a little
closer at hand. "You gonna hurl?"

 Fraser raised his head and squinted blearily at Ray blearily. "Where...
what... why am...uhhh."

 "Yeah," Ray sympathized. "That would be the hangover."

 Fraser suddenly seemed to realize where he was, and whom he was lying on
and he threw himself off, which wasn't the best idea he could have had.
Ray imagined that his head must be throbbing like hell right about now.

 Ray scrambled up and got the glass of water but Fraser made no attempt to
take it. He just lay there looking green about the gills and more than a
little bit lost. 

 "Ray, did I... did I do anything I ought to know about?"

 Ray squatted down next to him and offered the glass of water again. This
time, Fraser managed to sit upright, and took a sip.

 "Perfect gentleman, Frase. Smithbauer said to say bye. He had to rush
off."

 Fraser was gulping down the water now. "Ray would you be so kind as to
fetch me some Aspirin from the drawer in the kitchen? Next to the cutlery.
Thank you kindly."

 Ray took the empty glass, refilled it and retrieved the bottle of
tablets. "So, you and Mark made quite a dent in the good stuff last
night?" Ray looked at the almost empty whiskey bottle on Fraser's dining
table.

 "Oh dear!" Fraser closed his eyes and dry swallowed two pills. Following
that up with a gulp of water. "He's really very persuasive. It's lucky I
don't have duty today. My mouth feels like the bottom of a bear's den."

 "Probably tastes like it too," Ray nodded. "You think you can manage to
wash up while I make us some food?" Ray waved his hand dismissively at
Fraser's distressed face. "Hey, trust me. You'll actually feel better once
you get something solid in there." 

 Fraser staggered to his feet and shouldered into a ratty old bathrobe.
With one final bemused glance over his shoulder, he snagged his shaving
kit and went out the door. 

 Ray shook his head. Shared bathrooms were not his idea of modern living,
but after years chipping the ice off some outside toilet, Fraser probably
thought he was living in the lap of luxury now. He set to work ransacking
the small kitchen for edibles. By the time Fraser had returned, with a
little more color in his cheeks, Ray had a large pot of bark tea on the
table, along with a couple of rounds of toast and a jar of something that
looked like strawberry jelly. 

 Fraser sat down heavily at the table and poured himself a cup of tea with
shaking hands. "Ray, why were you sleeping on the floor with me when there
was a perfectly good bed less that a foot away?"

 Ray almost choked on his mouthful of toast. Trust Fraser to just get
right to it. "The um, the fuzzball had made a prior claim. It was the
floor or your tiny little sofa. I figured the floor was the best of a bad
lot."

 Dief was only now thinking of getting up from his cozy bed, stretching
his back out and yawning, all teeth and lolling pink tongue.

 "Diefenbaker, that was very rude. House guests should always be offered
the bed," Fraser admonished half-heartedly. He gingerly nibbled at the
corner of a piece of toast. "I should probably apologize for the um, the
unwanted activity..."

 "You mean the hard-on?"

 Fraser dropped the toast onto his plate and went pale again. "Um, yes, as
you say. I'm afraid I don't know what came over me."

 Ray snorted. "I could make a joke here, but it would be far too crude,
even for me. So, what were you dreaming about anyway? Me?" Ray smiled,
licked his lips and winked outrageously. 

 "Ray? Are you... are you flirting with me by any chance?"

 "Maybe," Ray replied silkily. "Never flirted with a guy before. How'm I
doing?" Fraser looked like he might be turning blue. His excess lung
capacity didn't seem to be helping him at all. "Okay, breathe, Frase,
breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth..."

 "Ray, are you ill. And by that, I mean mentally ill of course. Or perhaps
it's me that's ill. I don't recall receiving any blows to the head
recently..."

 And off he goes, away on a tangent. 

 Ray absolutely did not want to listen to all the reasons and excuses
Fraser could come up to explain away Ray's behavior. His heart spiked with
the adrenalin shot and all he could think of was shutting Fraser the hell
up. Getting to his feet, he came around the table and sunk to his knees
beside Fraser's chair, lunging forward to clamp his lips over the end of
Fraser's nose. Not his original target, it had to be said, but Fraser had
jerked back in surprise, and anyway, he'd shut up so, mission
accomplished!

 "You're suckink by dose," Fraser stated conversationally. "Why are you
suckink by dose?"

 "Damn!" 

 Ray pulled back and took a determined breath. Reaching up, he placed both
hands on Fraser's face and tilted his head to the side. "I was trying to
kiss you, you freak!" So he tried again. Slowly, and tentatively. Fraser
never moved a muscle for the duration. It was like kissing the back of his
own hand. Ray opened his eyes and squinted at Fraser. Nothing. Nada.
Frozen stiff. Shit. That hadn't felt quite the way he'd expected it to.

 "Guess I should have stuck with the nose. Huh?" Ray muttered in
disappointment. "I'm clearly not your type and...."

 If he'd been paying a bit more attention, Ray might have seen Fraser's
eyes narrow. He might even have heard Fraser's slow exhalation. And he
would certainly have been more prepared for Fraser's hand on the back of
his neck, drawing him close.

 This kiss was anything but tentative. This was more what Ray had
expected. Much more. Jesus, it was... it was... what was it? Hot didn't
seem to cover it. Unexpected. The intensity, and tenderness of it was
totally unexpected. He pulled back, gasping.

 Fraser's eyes were glittering. "This better not be your idea of a joke,
Ray. Because if it is, so help me... "

 "No joke," Ray gasped, tugging Fraser's face towards him for another
round of tonsil hockey. "You hear anyone laughing?"

 Fraser capitulated for long moments before pushing Ray away again.
"But... God, Ray, you're not gay. Why on earth would you want to do this?"


 Wasn't it enough that it felt good? He didn't have any answers to give.
His brain was offline. He leaned close, pressing his erection against
Fraser's leg. "Maybe it's just my dick that's gay?" he hissed, because
that felt even better than the kissing had. "You should definitely give it
a stern talking to."

 "Oh dear," Fraser rasped, squeezing his eyes tightly closed. "I don't
have any defenses against you when you look at me like that..."

 "Hey, don't go mushy on me," Ray said softly. "We're guys remember. No
mush. Just... um... cribbage... cabbage..." He'd read about it just the
previous evening in his magazine, how could he have forgotten the damned
name already?

 "Frottage?" Fraser supplied dubiously.

 "Is that the rubbing thing? 'Cos if that's the rubbing thing, then bring
it on."

 Fraser made a noise that was half way between a cough and a giggle. "Dear
Lord, Ray. Slow down. I'm still not at all sure what's going on here."

 Damn. Fraser was right. Ray staggered to his feet and went to sit on the
sofa, as far away from Fraser as he could get. "Crap! Sorry, Frase. I
kinda lost the plot there." 

 "It's not that I don't want to take things a step further." Fraser got up
and joined Ray on the sofa. "Obviously, I would want... I've dreamed
about... I just... well, to be honest, Ray, I don't really understand what
happened here. Can we perhaps start at the beginning?" Fraser asked,
surreptitiously placing a scatter cushion over his groin. Ray pretended
not to notice.

 "Okay, well I guess it started when I was about seven...."

 "Ah, perhaps not that far back."

 Ray flushed red and cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Oh, you mean
the beginning of 'us'? Well, that's a kinda new development. Leastways for
me." 

 "A somewhat sudden development," Fraser said. And Ray couldn't blame him
for being skeptical. He hadn't exactly been wearing his heart on his
sleeve all these months, but hell, he was only just working this shit out
for himself. 

 "Look, I know it's hard to believe. I'm not exactly jumping your bones
here, but I've never done anything like this before. Not... not with a
guy! Flying blind here, Frase."

 Fraser licked his lips and nodded. "I'm sorry, please, continue."

 "Okay," Ray continued. "Okay. So. It's like this; I know three things. A)
I think I love you. 2) I can't imagine my life without you in it and c) I
definitely liked the kissing."

 "I could tell," Fraser smiled weakly. "But I'm just not convinced you've
thought this through. Yes, it's possible that you love me. Yes, it's
possible that you and I are so close now that it would be hard to imaging
a future apart. Yet neither of those eventualities means that you're able
to embark upon a physical relationship with me. I'm sorry Ray, I've seen
little evidence to support that."

 "I got hard when we were kissing. That's evidence."

 "It's only evidence that you enjoy the sensuality of kissing and that
your penis reacts to friction. Hardly an airtight case."

 Ray sighed. "What do I gotta do to prove it to you Frase? Bend over the
table? Because I will, if that's what it takes." And please God, don't let
him say yes to that because he really, really didn't want to do that. At
least... not yet. 

 Fraser's eyes closed and his head drooped almost right onto his chest.
"As appealing as that mental image is, Ray, you have no idea what you are
offering."

 "You're trying to scare me off?" Ray was confused. How come Fraser wasn't
all over this? Here he was, being all gay and everything, and Fraser was
putting up walls.

 "I'm trying to talk some sense into you. Ray, I'm not going anywhere. We
can continue like before, being partners and friends..."

 Ray shot to his feet and leaned on the mantle over the fireplace. He
couldn't sit that close to Fraser and not make a grab for him. "You don't
get it. I thought that's all I wanted too." His fingers clenched tight on
the wood. "Partners and friends is great, Frase, but it's not forever."

 Ray could feel the heat of Fraser's body close behind him before he felt
the gentle touch of Fraser's hands on his shoulders. "Forever, Ray? Didn't
you say that casual was your middle name?"

 Ray turned around, letting some of the insecurity show in his face.
"Fraser, I don't know what I want. Not exactly. But whatever it is, you're
it."

 ***

 Ray was beginning to wonder when Fraser would run out of steam. He'd been
pacing the floor for several minutes now, hands clasped tightly behind his
back, muttering under his breath. It was really quite distracting on many
levels not least of which was the fact that Fraser's robe kept flapping
open when he changed direction, and it was obvious he was naked beneath
it.

 "Is it really so hard to believe that I want to be with you in every
way?" Ray asked to distract himself from the way his thoughts were going
more than anything else. 

 Fraser stopped pacing and whirled around to look at him. "Frankly, Ray?
Yes. Yes it is. All this time, all the signals I sent out, and you never
once showed even the smallest iota of interest in me physically. I find it
hard to believe that suddenly you find me desirable. No, I won't let you
sacrifice yourself like this."

 "Excuse me?" Did Fraser think he intended to just lie back and think of
England? 

 But Fraser was still droning away, "...I'll always be here for you as
your friend, as your partner. We can even live together if that would make
you feel more of a commitment, but it doesn't have to go any further than
just good friends...."

 "What if I want it to?" Ray interrupted. When he looked at Fraser, even a
hung over, flustered and tousled Fraser, he didn't care what people would
think anymore. His colleagues, his parents, even Stella's opinion didn't
matter. "This? This is no sacrifice, Fraser. I want this." Fraser deserved
to be with someone who loved him wholeheartedly, and Ray needed the very
same thing. 

 Fraser stared steadfastly over Ray's shoulder. "This is not something you
have to do to keep me with you."

 Okay, if Fraser wouldn't listen to him, then he would just have to show
him how he felt. Actions speak louder than words, right? He took a deep
breath. "Yesterday, I would have been relieved to hear that." He grabbed
Fraser's shoulders, whirled him around and began backing him towards the
alcove.

 "Ray, if you would just think rationally for a moment..." Fraser said
desperately but Ray wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to him. 

 "La la la not listening."

 "Ray! Stop it! Sex is not a game."

 "No, but it can be fun," Ray grinned, shoving Fraser down onto the cot
and straddling his legs. "C'mon, Frase. Live a little..." 

 And what do you know, Fraser was still sporting wood. Hard to ignore when
you were practically sitting right on it. And all that separated Ray from
Fraser's dick was a layer of denim, and a layer of cotton, which set up
the most delicious friction every time he moved.

 Fraser was breathing hard. He clenched the metal sides of the cot and
gasped as Ray writhed in his lap. 

 "Please, Ray... you don't understand...."

 Ray yanked his t-shirt off and tossed it on the floor. What was to
understand? Fraser wanted him. He wanted Fraser. Why Fraser had to
complicate even the simplest of equations was totally beyond Ray's ability
to comprehend. "Will you shut the fuck up and kiss me?" he demanded. 

 For a moment, it looked like Fraser might comply. "If I lose control," he
said tightly, still clinging to the bed frame like it was an anchor, "I
might not be able to stop."

 And of course, that would worry a guy like Fraser, who prided himself on
his self-control and stamina. The idea that he might be able to break that
iron control was more than a little appealing to Ray. He leaned forward
and caught Fraser's earlobe between his teeth, nipping lightly. "That's
the whole point," he whispered.

 Fraser tried to jerk away, causing the cot to tip under the uneven weight
distribution and Ray suddenly found himself on the floor, in a tangle of
limbs and bed sheets, staring up into Fraser's shocked face. 

 Fraser was no lightweight. Ray wasn't at all used to being pinned down
like this, and maybe he should be freaked by it, but he wasn't. It
reminded him that he didn't have to hold back. That Fraser could take
everything he had to give and more. And hey, hang on... Fraser was pushing
himself upwards, desperately trying to put daylight between their bodies.
Ray couldn't allow that. He reached up and grabbed the gaping edges of
Fraser's robe, using it to pull him back down. "Where the hell do you
think you're going?" he growled. 

 Ray felt the exact moment that Fraser surrendered. 

 He stopped fighting and let Ray pull him down, eyes drifting shut on a
sigh until there was no space at all between them. Ray closed his eyes
tight and let the waves of pleasure lap over him. Those were Fraser's
hands touching his face, his neck, his chest. That was Fraser's tongue
licking its way into his mouth and that was Fraser's... oh fuck... that
was his dick pressing hard against Ray's crotch with every gentle thrust
of his hips.

 Ray got lost in the kiss, hardly aware that Fraser had made short work of
his zipper, until Fraser rolled them over and slipped his hands down the
back of Ray's jeans. Holy shit! Fraser had big hands. Big, warm, clever
hands that were now full of Ray's ass cheeks.

 "Oh, God...." He groaned, grinding helplessly down against Fraser's
groin. "...more."

 Fraser was still panting. "More... more what, Ray? You have to... tell me
what you want."

 "Skin."

 Ray shoved his jeans and boxers down enough to get the skin on skin
action he needed, and began to move. 

 Fraser was kissing him, mingling his breath with Ray's. He could feel it
coiling inside him, the electric burn of release, tightening his balls,
stealing his breath, painting his eyelids with flashes of light. "Oh yeah,
oh yeah, that's it, Ben, that's... oh fuck!" 

 He came so hard his ears rang. Ray's eyes rolled back in his head and he
went lax with pleasure, sprawled on Fraser's chest like wrung-out cloth.

 "Wow. That was... that was...." Ray didn't have words to describe it. A
small smile tugged at his lips. If he'd still had any doubts that he could
make this thing work with Fraser, they were gone now, blown sky high along
with Ray's purely heterosexual status. He lifted his head, which felt like
it weighed about a ton, and gazed down at his... lover? Oh yeah, that
worked.

 Fraser was still breathing kinda hard and it occurred to Ray then, that
he was being a little derelict in his duties. Fraser still hadn't come and
that wasn't buddies. Ray wondered if he should maybe try licking
something. Did Fraser like having his nipples played with? Shifting to one
side, Ray ran a shaky hand up Fraser's chest, catching his nipple between
finger and thumb.

 Fraser bucked violently upwards. Okay. He definitely liked that. Ray bent
down and suckled the hard little peak into his mouth.

 "Fuck, Ray!"

 If Ray hadn't just come quite spectacularly once already, hearing Fraser
swear like that might just have set him off again. As it was, his cock
twitched valiantly. Ray had never had such a responsive sexual partner.
Stella and him, they'd been good in bed, even when the marriage was on the
rocks, but she had never let go like this.

 Ray licked his way down Fraser's chest and belly, high on the rush of
endorphins and not a small amount of relief. All of this was new to him,
but all of it felt so fucking good. What he lacked in experience he was
making make up for in enthusiasm. Fraser's fingers brushed lightly through
his hair and Ray shivered with anticipation. He just hoped he could make a
fairly good show if this, for Fraser's sake. 

 Wrapping his hand firmly around Fraser's cock, Ray took a deep breath and
slowly sucked his way down the shaft. He had just about enough time to
register the taste before Fraser gasped, arched his back and exploded down
Ray's throat in short, hot spurts, desperately crying out his name.

 Ray did his best to take it all, but this was his first time, and there
was rather more than he had expected. Next time... next time he would make
sure Fraser lasted longer. This was way too good to hurry. He swallowed
around Fraser's still pulsing cock and felt a swell of intense pride. He'd
made Fraser come. How cool was that?

 Surreptitiously wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he glanced up
to see Fraser looking back at him in amazement. 

 "You did say you would try anything once, Ray," he panted.

 Ray grinned, crawling up the length of Fraser's body to kiss him. "Wanna
try for twice?"

 ***

 Epilogue - 2 years later.

 Ray loved Sundays. 

 There was something really decadent about lying in bed until noon,
reading the papers and sipping coffee. And sometimes, if he played it
right, they would have a little game of 'hide the sausage', before Fraser
insisted on getting up.

 Today had been a particularly great Sunday, on account of how Fraser
hadn't tipped him out of bed, but let him wallow while he saw to the dogs
and picked up breakfast. 

 Ray was cleaning out Turk the turtle's tank when Fraser returned,
preceded by Mutt, the ever-energetic new member of their little family,
and followed up more sedately by Dief.

 "Ray, you really need to have a word with your dog. He was exceptionally
rude to Mrs. Filipowski's Pomeranian."

 Ray shook his head fondly and smiled, wiping his hands on a dishrag.
"Yeah, what'd he do? Use it to wipe his...."

 "Ray!" Fraser interrupted loudly, effectively blocking out the end of the
sentence. "There's no denying where he gets his manners from."

 Ray bent down and scratched the scruffy rescue dog's ears fondly. "He's
trying to turn us all into goddamned Canadians, Mutt. What do you think of
them apples?"

 Mutt snorted and jumped up on the sofa beside his best buddy Dief.

 Fraser had started toasting bagels. "Ray, can I ask you something?"

 Oh dear. He had that look on his face. The one that meant he needed to
get something off his chest. Ray dug the cream cheese out of the
refrigerator. "Sure, shoot."

 "Do you ever regret giving up your job in Chicago to move up here with
me?"

 The way he spoke, you'd think Whitehorse was at the ends of the earth.
Sure, it wasn't a big city like Vancouver or Toronto, but Fraser wouldn't
have been able to hack living in a place like that, even with his years of
practice in the Windy City. 

 They could get pizza here with pineapple, thank you very much. There were
shops and restaurants and cinemas. Ray enjoyed the change of pace but more
than that, he enjoyed the change in Fraser. Ray had been worried that one
day, he would lose Fraser to Canada. As it turned out, Canada won them
both! But in truth, Ray would happily have followed Fraser to the ends of
the earth.

 "Regret it? Yeah, sometimes I miss the scumbags and the rapists and the
murderers..." Ray deadpanned, spreading cheese on the bagels Fraser had
just lifted out of the toaster. They'd been here almost two years and Ray
hadn't threatened to kick anyone in the head even once.

 "We have our share of those here, Ray."

 "Yeah, but they're polite scumbags. Look, Ben, I don't miss the town, I
don't miss the job, and I certainly don't miss the loneliness." It had
been a constant source of amazement to Ray that in a city the size of
Chicago, a person could still feel so alone. "I got what I need right
here. You're a freak, but I love ya."

 Ray took a bite out of his bagel and raised his eyebrows. Was that enough
reassurance, or would he be forced to take Fraser to bed and prove his
undying devotion again? Oh, the hardship!

 "And I you, Ray."

 The gentle smile on those sweet, sometimes wicked lips made Ray want to
go for the proof thing anyway, because honestly, what harm could it do? He
licked cream cheese from the corner of his mouth and leaned across the
table, eyes slowly closing with anticipation.

 Which was right about the time that someone started banging on the door.

 Ray glanced at Fraser in confusion. It was before noon on a Sunday
morning. Who would be calling this early? Fraser looked equally at a loss.


 "Come on guys, I know you're in there." A strong Canadian voice bellowed
from outside the cabin. "Will you let me in before my ass freezes off?"

 They looked at each other in disbelief. "Nah," Ray laughed, "couldn't
be... Could it?"

 The end

  
  

End unexpected by Nicci 

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