Human Touch	  Human Touch by Alison

 Author's disclaimer: They belong to Alliance

 Author's notes: Hi. Last part of the series which began with 'Learning To
Listen.' Thanks to the usual suspects. 

Let me know what you think of it.

  

 HUMAN TOUCH 

 The night before they were due to leave the cabin and return to Chicago,
Ray finally told Fraser everything that had happened to him in that alley,
more than a month previously. 

 Ray was sprawled on the couch, Fraser sitting on the floor, both of them
staring into the fire so that they wouldn't have to look at each other and
break this mood which had built between them. It was a time for stories
and secrets, things which neither would mention again in the light of day.
It had become almost a ritual for them over the past three weeks as they
had relaxed away from the noise and grime of Chicago. They had come to
know each other in a way neither of them had ever expected. 

 "I didn't wanna die," said Ray softly. "But I thought I was going to.
Then when I was in the hospital and you were there perfect and safe I
wanted to. Now I know that if it had to happen then it's best that it
happened to me. You're too, I dunno, shiny. If anything like that happened
to you I don't know what I'd do." 

 "Don't say that!" Fraser tried to keep his voice calm. "I wish I'd been
there, I wish I'd stopped it happening..." 

 "But you didn't." There was no bitterness in Ray's voice now. Out here in
the peace and silence of the woods he was coming to terms with what had
happened to him. "You didn't and it really doesn't matter, y'know? It
mattered then; I wanted to hurt you so much because of it, but it's over."
He reached out a hand, not looking, and rested it on the back of Fraser's
neck. "I've had a great time out here, but we gotta go back tomorrow and
get on, right? So after tonight we don't talk about it again." 

 "But Ray," Fraser protested, "We still have to find the people who did
this to you, they have to be brought to justice." 

 "No we don't and no they don't," Ray said quietly. "We forget about it.
It's over now." 

 Fraser opened his mouth to protest again, but a warning squeeze from Ray
made him stop. He nodded slightly, and the two men carried on staring into
the fire. 

 The slightly awkward silence was broken by Dief appearing from the
kitchen carrying what appeared to be most of the remains of their dinner.
He grinned at his two men and flopped in front of the fire, paws
protectively around his prize. 

 "That's your fault Ray," said Fraser, smiling. "You were supposed to
throw all that out." 

 "Well, the walking garbage disposal can take care of it now," answered
Ray, shifting his position so that he was lying behind Fraser on the
couch. The hand which had been on Fraser's neck slipped down until it was
resting across the broad chest. Idly Ray began to unbutton Fraser's thick
shirt, slipping his hand underneath the soft cotton until he encountered
naked flesh. He stroked gently, teasingly and Fraser turned his head so
that, for the first time in what seemed a long time, he was looking
directly at Ray. The two men gazed at each other and moved into the kiss
at the same time, Fraser's hand coming up to hold Ray close. 

 The kiss was long and slow, full of promise for the night to come. They
hadn't made love often since they came to the cabin; Ray seemed to prefer
just being held, but tonight he seemed ready for more. 

 "D'you wanna leave the hound in front of the fire and go to bed?" Ray
said against Fraser's lips, smiling when Fraser nodded. 

 Standing up, Fraser pulled the smaller man to his feet, holding him in a
tight embrace, which Ray returned. There had been times in these past
three weeks when Fraser had found himself shaking at how close he had been
to losing Ray in the aftermath of the attack. He had promised himself that
after Victoria he would make sure he never let himself get involved again.
But that had been before Ray Kowalski, and all the insecurity, nervous
energy and heartfelt emotion that particular package entailed. 

 "Come on," said Ray, pulling free. "Whatever it is you're thinking about,
don't. Nothing matters. Just us, okay?" 

 "Okay," replied Fraser, following Ray into the bedroom. 

 Ray sat on the bed, looking up at Fraser before holding out his arms. 

 "Come here," he said. "Let's take it slow tonight. This is our last night
here and I wanna remember it for all the right reasons." 

 

 It was just before dawn when Fraser woke. The new day promised to be cold
and clear, perfect driving weather for the return to Chicago. 

 It was warm under the blankets with Ray, who was pressed against Fraser's
back with his arm carelessly draped across Fraser's waist. Unthinking,
Fraser reached for Ray's hand and tangled their fingers together. 

 "Ray?" he said quietly. "Are you awake yet?" 

 "Yep," answered Ray, just as quietly. "Been awake for ages. Doin' some
thinking." 

 Fraser turned over until he could see Ray. 

 "What kind of thinking?" he asked. 

 "Thinking thinking," said Ray. "Thinking that I don't wanna go back to
Chicago. I wanna stay here for ever, just like this." 

 "You'd soon get bored Ray, you know you would. No bad guys to chase, no
takeaway food," 

 "I sometimes think that it wouldn't be so bad, staying here," Ray
continued as if Fraser hadn't spoken. "The world sucks, you know? It's
been good here." 

 "Yes it has," said Fraser, lifting his hand. Ray's fingers were still
entwined with his and Fraser stared at both hands, seemingly engrossed in
his study. Ray shook his hand slightly and Fraser raised his eyes. 

 "What're you thinking'?" asked Ray. 

 "I'm just thinking how much I've enjoyed this time here," said Fraser.
"But I also think that we really need to get back to Chicago, to the real
world. We both have jobs Ray, and responsibilities. We can always come
back here, whenever we want." 

 "Yeah, I guess," sighed Ray. He leaned over and rested his chin on
Fraser's shoulder. Fraser smiled as Ray's breath tickled his ear. "We
don't have to leave early though, do we? We still got a whole day, right?"


 "Right," answered Fraser. "We can leave as late as you like." 

 "Have you ever had al dente sex?" Ray suddenly asked out of the blue. 

 "Al - ? Do you mean al fresco, Ray?" 

 "That's what I said." 

 "So you did. Er, no. Why?" 

 "Oh just wondering," answered Ray, pulling his hand away from Fraser's,
then rolling on top of the bigger man. "Kinda cold this time of year, I
guess." 

 "I would say so, yes," said Fraser, resting his hands on Ray's back,
starting to stroke gently. 

 "We really gotta try it sometime though," Ray smiled at Fraser, leaning
down to kiss the tip of his nose. "We need to get more adventurous." 

 "Adventurous?" 

 "Yeah. I've made a kind of After Attack Resolution," Ray said, lowering
his head so that he could kiss Fraser's neck. "I can't forget what
happened, but I'm not going to let that spoil us. We're good together and
I'm gonna work to keep it like that." 

 "Ray, you don't have to - ," began Fraser, but Ray interrupted him. 

 "I do. Even if it's just for me, I have to do it." 

 He pushed himself upright until he was straddling Fraser's hips. He
shivered in the cold morning air and reached for the blankets. 

 "You ever made out in a tent?" he asked. 

 Fraser shook his head. 

 "Well, I know it's not really a tent," Ray lay back down on Fraser,
pulling the blankets over both of them. "But it'll give you a good idea of
what it's like." 

 

 Late that night the GTO pulled in front of the apartment building. Ray
sat quietly behind the wheel, staring straight ahead. Dief, anxious to be
out, licked Ray's ear and growled softly, but it didn't have any effect. 

 "Ray?" Fraser put a hand on the other man's leg. "We're here. Are you
okay?" 

 Ray shook himself, pulling himself back from wherever he had been. 

 "Yeah sure. I'm fine. Tired I guess. You ready to go in?" 

 Fraser nodded and climbed out of the car. He sighed as he watched Dief
bound towards the door of the building. Ray had been quiet for most of the
afternoon as they had packed up their supplies. He had become increasingly
tense as they had approached Chicago and now, although he was obviously
making a big effort, he was very obviously on edge. 

 Ray opened the trunk of the car and reached in for the bags. As he did so
a figure detached itself from the shadows a few hundred yards up the road.
Ray glanced up, the movement catching his eye, and he froze, unable to
move. 

 "Ray? Ray, what's the matter?" Fraser moved to Ray's side, not sure what
had happened. Ray was staring at the figure as it walked down the street
towards them. 

 "It's okay, Ray," Fraser said softly. "He's just a drunk; he can't hurt
you." 

 Ray nodded. "Uh-huh. I know that. I'm just y'know, watching." 

 Ray watched as the figure approached. He could see now that it really was
just a drunk; a shambling old man who was probably just as frightened of
Ray as Ray was of him. But he couldn't take his eyes off the figure. He
jumped when he felt Fraser's arm on his shoulder. 

 "Come on Ray. The bags can wait until tomorrow." Until it's light was the
unspoken thought. 

 Ray nodded again. "Yeah, that's good." He slammed the trunk of the car
but still didn't move. 

 Fraser tightened his arm and led him into the apartment building. Once
inside the door, Ray leaned against the wall, head lowered, breathing in
great gulps of air. 

 "Sweet Jesus Fraser, I'm sorry," he panted. "I don't know I just saw and
I don't know..." 

 "It's okay Ray," said Fraser. "You just got a little jumpy. It's
understandable. Come on, let's get up to the apartment." 

 Ray seemed to relax a little when he was back in the apartment with the
door securely locked. He shrugged out of his jacket and then stopped,
seemingly unsure what to do next. He wrapped his arms around himself in an
habitual gesture one that Fraser dreaded seeing. He hadn't seen Ray do it
in almost a month. It was an 'I'm hurting' gesture; a 'help me,' gesture. 

 "Are you hungry Ray?" asked Fraser. "We could call for pizza if you
like." 

 Ray shook his head. 

 "Nah Frase. I think I just want a shower and then I want to sleep. Is
that okay with you?" 

 "Of course," said Fraser. "Would you like me to join you?" 

 Ray smiled at Fraser; one of those rare room-lighting smiles, and nodded.


 "I'd like that a lot," he said. 

 Unable to help himself Fraser hugged Ray hard. Ray returned the embrace,
holding onto Fraser almost desperately. 

 "I'm sorry," he muttered, "I'm so sorry." 

 "No, don't ever say that," Fraser said, "You don't have anything to be
sorry about." 

 He turned around, an arm around Ray's shoulders. "Come on. Shower." 

 

 Ray woke suddenly, heart beating hard in his chest. Beside him Fraser
slept, curled up in his own world. 

 Ray lay as still as he could, not wanting to wake his Mountie. But Jesus,
that had been a bad one. He hadn't had dreams like that since before they
had gone away to the cabin. He scrubbed his hands over his face, wiping
away the cold sweat which had formed there. 

 There had been voices whispering to him; whispering how evil and dirty he
was, how he had wanted this to happen. If he had been a better person
those men would have left him alone. No matter how often Fraser told him
that the attack hadn't been his fault, Ray was beginning to have a hard
time believing it. 

 Gently he climbed out of bed trying not to disturb Fraser. Picking up a
sweatshirt he made his way to the living room and lay on the couch. It
struck him that this was where he had spent the first few days after the
attack, and some part of him knew it wasn't good that he was here again. 

 Curling onto his side, he closed his eyes and replayed the nightmare.
Perhaps familiarity would breed contempt. 

 

 Fraser, still asleep, reached out to Ray's side of the bed. He
encountered only cold cotton and that woke him up with a start. 

 With a sinking heart he got out of bed and went into the living room. Ray
was lying on the couch, curled into a ball, talking quietly to himself.
Fraser could only hear the odd word, but it was enough to make his stomach
clench in fear and anger.  "No....no. I was only waiting for
Fraser.............. I'll go back to the precinct............. I never saw
anything.............. Leave me alone, I won't say anything.........."	

 "Ray?" Fraser put his hand on Ray's shoulder. Ray stopped talking but
didn't raise his head. 

 "Hey," he said. 

 "Come back to bed," said Fraser. "It's cold out here. Come on." 

 Ray shook his head. "Nope. Can't do that. I'll just stay here for a
little while longer. Got some thinking to do." 

 "Thinking about what?" asked Fraser. "Tell me what you're thinking." 

 Slowly, wearily, Ray straightened out on the couch, pulling himself into
a sitting position. He wouldn't look at Fraser. He stared fixedly at the
blank television screen. Fraser quickly seated himself next to Ray, close
enough to touch if he had to. 

 "Thinking that coming back was a mistake," Ray said quietly. "Seeing that
old guy out on the street tonight it all came back in gory detail. I don't
know if I can handle it." 

 "Ray, you were tired and a little strung out," said Fraser. "We have to
find these men; that will help you, and Lieutenant Welsh has suggested
that perhaps you see a Counsellor about this talk out the problem..." 

 "No! I thought I'd got this through your head while we were in the
cabin!" Ray glanced at Fraser and then away again. "I don't want to find
them. I don't even want to try. I was in the wrong place, it happened.
There's no evidence, nothing that would help us trace them. Even if there
was, even if we found them somehow, I've told you, I'm not who everybody
thinks I am; I'm not Vecchio. How'm I supposed to go to court?" He
stopped, breathing hard, then said a little more gently, "Just leave it
Frase, please." 

 "So what happens next?" asked Fraser, wanting to touch his partner, but
not daring to, not while the other man was in this volatile state. "Do you
just go back to work as if nothing had happened? You can't do that Ray.
Can you?" 

 "I can give it a damn good try," muttered Ray. He half turned to Fraser,
biting his bottom lip. 

 "Listen," he said. "When we were up in the cabin I thought everything was
going to be fine. Once we'd you know got back together, I thought I'd
start relaxing again, and I did. But now we're back here and I've got to
go into work every day, go past that alley where I was attacked, walk past
people who know what happened to me and are disgusted by it. Or turned on
by it; there are some sick fucks out there. I can't handle that, Frase, I
just can't. The only thing I can do is pretend nothing happened; shut it
all out." 

 Fraser gave in to his impulse and put a hand on Ray's leg. Ray pulled
away immediately and stood up. 

 "Don't!" he said. "Don't touch me!" He stopped, one hand half raised
towards Fraser whether to draw him near or push him away wasn't clear.
"It's this place," he said, low and lost. 

 "Ray..." Fraser sat back, trying to appear unthreatening. "That's why you
should talk to someone about this.." 

 "No," Ray said, this time more quietly. "I can't. I don't do talking
about things, you know that. I've just gotta get over this by myself in my
own way. I will, I promise you." 

 "You don't have to promise me anything, Ray," said Fraser softly. 

 "Yeah, yeah I do," answered Ray. 

 After a minute's silence during which both men avoided looking at each
other, Ray sighed. 

 "I'm gonna go back to bed Fraser," he said. "You comin'?" 

 "In a little while Ray," answered Fraser. "I think I'd like some warm
milk. Would you like some? It will help you sleep." 

 Ray nodded, smiling. 

 "Thanks Fraser. That'd be nice." 

 He turned towards the bedroom, not willing to say anything further. He
closed the door quietly behind himself and leaned his head against it,
listening for the familiar and somehow soothing sounds of Fraser moving
around in the small kitchen. Once he realised that Fraser was involved
with milk and vanilla and whatever else he used for the drink he was
preparing, Ray walked to the bed, his mind deliberately full of nothing.
Picking up a pillow from the bed, he buried his face in it to muffle the
sound and began to say one word, over and over again, gaining in volume
until it was almost a scream 

 "No. No. No. NO!" 

 

 Two days later Ray stood in the doorway to the apartment building,
hanging on to the door frame. Fraser, just in front of him was talking
softly, trying not to frighten the wild animal Ray had become. 

 "Come on Ray," he said. "It's just a few steps to the car. Once we're
there we've just got to go to the precinct. I'll be with you all the time;
you'll be fine." 

 Ray shook his head, sweat breaking out on his forehead. 

 "I can't," he said desperately. "I just can't. I'll go back to the
apartment. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow." 

 "Ray it's not about being ill and you know it," said Fraser soothingly.
"You have to make this step Ray, or they'll have won." 

 Ray gave the Mountie a withering look. 

 "What exactly makes you think they haven't won anyway? I wouldn't usually
be standing here like some sort of gimp, hanging onto the door frame." 

 "I'll be with you," Fraser said again. "Come on. Just one step at a time,
yes?" 

 Ray nodded and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath he reached out with
one hand, grabbing hold of Fraser's arm. He stepped out of the doorway and
stood still. Dief, having been trapped behind Ray, pushed forward and
pressed against Ray's leg, lending his own support. 

 The distance to the car seemed endless to Ray. He could feel himself
sweating, his heart racing. He didn't even know what he was so frightened
of. He had Fraser and Dief, they would look after him. Nothing and no one
could hurt him now. 

 So why was he so frightened? 

 Finally he collapsed into the car, heaving a great sigh of relief. Fraser
climbed into the driver's seat and looked over at Ray, squeezing his leg
gently. 

 "Okay?" he said. 

 Ray nodded. "Okay," he answered. 

 And he really thought that perhaps it was okay, that perhaps it had just
been a silly panic attack, until the car drove past the alley where he had
been attacked. 

 Fraser saw Ray's hands clench into fists. He sighed quietly. He didn't
know what to do. Ray had been fine at the cabin, but in the short time
they had been back in Chicago he seemed to have regressed completely. 

 "Ray..." he began hesitantly. 

 "No, Fraser, don't go there," Ray said, holding up one trembling hand. "I
don't wanna talk about it and I'll be fine, okay? I just need a bit more
time." 

 Fraser carefully parked the GTO and climbed out, holding the seat forward
for Dief to exit. He stood there, not knowing whether Ray would need his
help to get into the precinct. His question was answered when Ray pushed
open the door and climbed out. He stood for a second, hanging onto the
door, then slammed it closed, turned to Fraser and winked. 

 "Come on," he said, nodding towards the precinct. "Gotta face them
eventually." 

 Fraser smiled in relief. Ray was damping down all the fear and
trepidation and from somewhere he was finding a spark of the old Kowalski.
He wasn't going to go down without a fight. 

 The first person to notice Ray as he entered the squad room was Francesca
Vecchio. She glanced up as the door swung open, then looked more intently.
Next to her beautiful Fraser was a pale, thin man. Give him a cocky
attitude and a sneer and he would be the real Ray Kowalski. 

 "Ray!" she said, standing up and giving him a hug. "How you doing?" 

 He returned the hug. "I'm getting there Frannie," he said. "Anything good
been happening around here?" 

 "Well without you two it's been really quiet," Frannie said, insinuating
herself between the two men and linking her arm through Fraser's. She took
hold of Ray's hand, squeezing it tightly. She had surprised herself with
how much she had missed this irritating man. 

 Looking up at Fraser, she batted her eyelashes. They still played out
their game, probably always would. It was just habit now. Fraser smiled
down at her and patted her hand where it lay on his arm. 

 "We have to go and see the Lieutenant, Francesca," he said politely, "So
if you could just...?" He disengaged himself and made his way through the
bustling room. There was a noticeable drop in volume as the cops gathered
there began to register who was back with them. Ray noticed a couple of
the disgusted looks he had been expecting, but on the whole he saw only
sympathy. One or two of his colleagues came up to him and shook his hand
or patted him on the back. Nobody knew what to say to him though, and
their progress through the squad room was hardly obstructed at all. 

 Lieutenant Welsh was standing just inside the door of his office,
watching the two men progress through the squad room. Ray looked pale,
thin, on edge. Fraser had the look of a wild animal; anyone who touched
Ray would have to get through Fraser first. 

 "Lieutenant," said Fraser politely, ushering Ray into the office and
closing the door firmly. At a nod from Welsh he pulled the blinds closed
so that nobody could see what was going on. 

 "So how are you Ray?" asked Welsh gruffly. Ray shrugged, not speaking. 

 "Much better," Fraser answered for him, wincing at the half lie. Only
half a lie because physically Ray was much better. The Lieutenant hadn't
asked for specifics. 

 Welsh picked up a file from his desk and opened it, pretending to read.
He didn't need to as he had almost the whole thing memorised. 

 "You still haven't been to see the shrink," he said, regretting his
choice of words almost immediately. 

 "Nope," said Ray. "Don't plan to go either." 

 "Detective, until you have been to this evaluation then you cannot come
back to work. You know that." Welsh put the file down and crossed his
arms. The familiar prickly feeling he got when dealing with Ray Kowalski
was coming back. 

 "I know that," Ray said. He looked as if he was going to say something
else, but then just shook his head. He was still standing in the middle of
the room, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. "I'm not going," he
said. "I don't need somebody looking into my brain to tell me whether I'm
okay or not." 

 "What about your job?" asked Welsh. 

 "I've been thinking about it," said Ray evenly. He looked up at Fraser
and then down at the floor, and Fraser knew, with complete certainty, what
Ray was going to say. 

 "I don't think I can be a cop anymore," Ray began. "Ever since that night
it's been on my mind. I don't want to do it now; I don't even want to be
here. Not now." 

 The Lieutenant picked his jaw up off the floor. 

 "Detective; it's what you know. Being a cop. What would you do?" 

 "I don't know yet," said Ray. "I just know what I don't want to do. If
I'm right I can be signed onto permanent sick leave so I'd still get my
pension. I wouldn't have to think about getting something else straight
away. I'd have time to think about my future." 

 Welsh looked at Fraser, who shook his head. 

 "I didn't have any idea about this Lieutenant," he said. "But if it's
what Ray wants then you know that I'll stand by him and support him." 

 Welsh nodded. "I know," he said. "He's damn lucky to have you." He looked
back at Ray. 

 "I don't know what to say. You're a damn fine cop, but if you've really
thought this through..." 

 "I have," said Ray, finally looking up and meeting the Lieutenant's gaze.
"I really have. When I was in that alley something inside me broke. I look
at things differently now. Before, I used to see drunks on the street;
now, I see somebody threatening me. What kind of cop would I be?" 

 "You could always start off at a desk..." began Welsh, before he was
interrupted by Ray's snort of derision. 

 "Oh yeah, sure," he said. "Me, the Not Doing Paperwork King? I couldn't
sit behind a desk, I just couldn't." 

 "Okay," said Welsh. "Let's look at it another way. How about an extended
sick leave while you really get your head together? We're talking a couple
of months. Go away somewhere, really think about it." 

 "I have really thought about it," said Ray beginning to get agitated.
"Why is it so hard to follow? I hate this place not just the precinct. I
hate this city, I hate what it's done to me." He turned to leave,
beckoning to Fraser, who fell in behind him. 

 "Look," Ray said as he opened the office door. "I'm really grateful for
everything you've done, and it's been a blast most of the time. But I
can't anymore." He put his hand on his stomach, rubbing as if he was in
pain. "Something broke," he said again, and left. 

 

 Fraser didn't speak until they were back outside the precinct. Ray had
his head down and was heading towards the car, desperate just to get back
into the safety of the GTO. Fraser followed him and unlocked the door then
went around and climbed behind the wheel. Diefenbaker took his usual post
on the back seat, licking the last of a stolen doughnut off his lips. 

 "Can we get out of here now please, Frase?" said Ray staring fixedly
ahead. "I really wanna get back to the apartment." 

 "Ray," Fraser said in a tone of such heartache that Ray turned to look. 

 "Fraser? What is it? What's the matter?" Ray put one hand on Fraser's
thigh and with the other hand turned Fraser's head so that they were
looking directly at each other. "What is it?" he said again. 

 "Ray, I don't know how to help you," said Fraser in a low tone. "You know
that I love you, yes?" 

 "Yes," Ray moved back until he was sitting pressed against the car door,
wrapping his arms around himself again. 

 "Then let me in!" Fraser said. "Tell me what you're thinking." 

 Ray shook his head. "Frase if you could see inside my head well, it's not
pretty. I want you to help me but I just can't." He paused then risked a
glance back up at Fraser. 

 "Can we go home?" he asked. 

 "Of course Ray, if that's what you want. Whatever you want, you know
that." 

 "Yeah, I know." 

 As soon as they were safely on their way, Ray reached over and put a hand
on Fraser's thigh. Fraser smiled slightly and covered the hand with one of
his own. 

 

 "We have to talk about it Ray," said Fraser, handing his partner a cup of
coffee. "We have to decide what we're going to do." 

 "All I know is what I'm not gonna do," said Ray, "And that's go back to
being a cop. I don't want it." 

 "A cop here, or a cop anywhere?" asked Fraser, sitting next to Ray on the
couch. Ray put down his coffee and moved closer to Fraser, who willingly
gathered him into a firm embrace. 

 As Ray sat with his head against Fraser's chest, listening to the strong,
slow beat of his heart, he could feel himself relax. This was how he used
to feel; safe, secure, confident in himself and those around him. It all
changed in the alley and now he only felt safe when he was with Fraser. 

 He felt the faintest touch on his head and looked up up. Fraser looked
back at him steadily steadfastly. That was the word. Steadfast. 

 He tried it out loud. "Steadfast." 

 Fraser smiled slightly and nodded. He lowered his head and Ray reached up
to meet him halfway. The kiss was deep and sweet. 

 "Here or anywhere?" Fraser said against Ray's lips. 

 For a moment Ray didn't understand what Fraser meant, but then it came
back to him. 

 "Anywhere," he answered. 

 Fraser nodded. Then, wanting to give at least the simple comfort of his
body, he deepened the kiss again, one hand splayed at the back of Ray's
head, pulling him in close. 

 Ray made a sound, deep in his throat, a contented cat. 

 Breaking the kiss, Fraser continued to hold Ray close. 

 "Then we leave Chicago," he said. "We go as soon as we can and we never
come back." 

 "What?" Ray looked amazed. "But you've got a good job here. I'm just
being cranky..." 

 "No you're not, Ray," answered Fraser. "You've obviously thought about
this a lot. I don't have a 'good' job; I have a job, that's all. I can get
a transfer." He paused, rubbing his finger through the short hairs at the
back of Ray's neck, making Ray squirm and shrug. 

 "You said that one day we would go to Canada," he continued. "Well why
can't that day have arrived? I have nothing keeping me here, you know
that." 

 Ray buried his face in the crook of Fraser's shoulder, rubbing his face
against the soft material of the serge. 

 "It'd be a big change for you," Fraser said. "For us both, really. It's
been a long time since I thought of living anywhere but Chicago." 

 "You didn't say 'home', Fraser," said Ray softly. "You didn't call
Chicago 'home' just then. D'you still think of the tundra as home?" 

 "I suppose I do Ray, yes," answered Fraser. 

 Ray sat back so that he could see Fraser's face. 

 "Then we'll go to the tundra," he said. "We'll get away from cities. You
show me how you live." 

 "Ray, are you sure?" Fraser couldn't stop a small glimmer of hope
starting to flicker somewhere inside him. He tried to keep his hands and
his gaze steady as he looked at Ray. 

 "Go get those papers organised," Ray said, starting to smile. 

 

 Ray couldn't breathe. He was hemmed in on all sides by faceless, nameless
shapes. They were touching him, stroking him, trying to claim him. He
fought against them, but it was like fighting shadows. He tried to turn,
tried to run, but they reached out and held him. One of the shadows took
on form in front of him and it was the little man, the man who had stood
back and watched Ray being attacked. Ray pulled against the hands holding
him, panicked, but he couldn't get away. He watched with a kind of dull
fascination as the little man beckoned to someone behind Ray. Ray tried to
turn his head so see who was coming, but his head was being held and he
couldn't move. 

 He caught a glimpse of movement over his shoulder and the next minute one
of his rapists stood there, beside his boss. Ray twisted and fought to get
out of the grip of whoever was holding him. Slowly his attacker raised a
hand and stroked Ray's face in an obscene parody of affection, then he
thrust two fingers into Ray's mouth, working them in and out, making Ray
choke and gag. 

 The hands which had been holding him released him and Ray tried to pull
back, but his attacker reached out with his free hand and cradled the back
of Ray's head in a painful grip. 

 A sudden kick in the back of his knees sent Ray to the ground, then the
second set of hands began to unfasten his jeans. Ray made a sound like a
sob, abruptly choked off as the first attacker forced his fingers deeper
into Ray's mouth. He released the back of Ray's head and unfastened his
own jeans. 

 Ray looked up, trying to see a way out of this. When he saw what was
happening, he tried to pull away, but the second attacker was behind him
again, holding him in a painful grip. The other faceless shapes around him
had changed, coalesced into people he knew; Welsh, Frannie, Huey, Dewey,
even Vecchio. He could see his parents, and Stella. And most painful, most
devastating of all, he saw Fraser. Fraser, staring at him with eyes that
were so hurt, so disappointed that Ray's heart all but broke. 

 Still not able to move voluntarily, Ray couldn't fight as his head was
forced forward, and he closed his eyes. His attacker removed his fingers
from Ray's mouth and Ray felt the hot heaviness of the man's cock pressed
against his lips. Unable to do anything else, he opened his mouth. And
then he bit down. 

 

 The scream which echoed around the bedroom was all the more shocking for
its suddenness. 

 Ray sat up, his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but it
was far too late for that as Fraser shot upright in bed, looking for all
the world like a startled deer. The thought almost made Ray smile, until
he remembered just what had happened to cause Fraser to wake up like that,
and all desire to laugh went right out the window. 

 "Ray! Ray are you all right? What's happened?" 

 "No Fraser, I'm fine, sorry," said Ray, moving his hand. "Just had a bit
of a dream there, you know?" 

 "Well no Ray, I don't," answered Fraser, rubbing his hands over his face.
"It sounded like more than a 'bit' of a dream." He lay down again and
gathered Ray into his arms, not surprised to feel the other man trembling
against him. 

 "Tel me what happened," he said softly. 

 Ray closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing in the good clean scent
of Fraser. It grounded him in a way he would never have thought possible.
He was here. Fraser was here. He was safe. 

 Fraser tightened his grip then just as quickly relaxed again. 

 "Tell me," he said again. 

 There was no arguing with that tone, so Ray took a deep breath and did
his best to explain what had happened. Fraser didn't speak all through the
halting description, but he held Ray close, stroking the sweat soaked
hair. 

 "....And you looked so so fucking disappointed in me," Ray finished, his
head now pillowed on Fraser's shoulder, eyes tightly closed. "Like
everything was my fault. And I wanted to tell you that it wasn't; that I
never meant for it to happen, any of it, but I couldn't because that
guy... well I couldn't." 

 They lay in silence for a long minute then Fraser spoke softly into the
dark. 

 "You could never disappoint me Ray," he said. "You are a constant source
of amazement to me. You flummox me sometimes and you annoy me -," he felt
Ray smile against his shoulder and turned his head so that he could brush
his lips against the blond hair. "But you will never disappoint me." He
paused and took a deep breath, then said everything he had ever felt and
never said. Everything he should have said. 

 "You are like a blaze of light. You came into my life, you accepted me,
you loved me. And I had no choice but to love you back; I was helpless in
the face of such emotion. I will never let you go; I will never give you
less than my all; and I swear, I absolutely swear on the soul of my dead
father, that I will protect you at every turn." 

 Ray lay still for a moment, his head still resting on Fraser's shoulder.
Then he pushed himself up so that he was leaning over the other man. He
kissed him, a long, hard kiss. 

 "You," he said softly and sweetly. "Are a freak." 

 "Understood." Fraser paused. "You do know that I would take the pain away
if I could?" 

 "Sometimes you do, Frase. Sometimes you do." 

 

 Ray wrote out his resignation the next morning, curled up on the sofa.
Fraser could practically see the tongue protruding from between his lips
as Ray grappled with the words. He wanted to get this right; Welsh had
been a good boss to him and being Vecchio had certainly been a blast. He
wanted Welsh to know both those things but he also wanted him to
understand why this was happening. 

 "Okay," he said, finally handing the letter to Fraser. "Read it, tell me
it doesn't suck. Take it to the precinct." 

 "It's fine," said Fraser handing it back. "Why don't you take it to the
precinct?" 

 Ray sat back and regarded Fraser. "Oh let me think. Ah yes, because it
takes me four days to get out of the door and into the street and another
four to make it from the doorway to the car." 

 "Please Ray?" asked Fraser. "I have to work today, and I also have a
transfer request to hand in. I can drive you to the precinct and then go
on to the Consulate. Dief could stay with you, then as soon as you're
ready to leave I'll come and get you and bring you back. You wouldn't be
alone." 

 "For fuck's sake, I'm not a baby!" exclaimed Ray. "I can do this if I
want." He stood up and walked to the front door. 

 "Come on," he said over his shoulder. "Pitter patter..." 

 Fraser smiled to himself at his small victory. 

 

 It was better this time. Ray sat in the car, still silent, but he seemed
less on edge. When they drove past the top of the alley Fraser risked a
glance over. Ray was staring straight ahead, not looking. 

 "I'm okay Frase," he said. "I'm not gonna freak, okay? I did all my
freaking last night." 

 Fraser nodded. 

 "Have you thought any more about speaking to someone?" he asked. 

 Ray didn't answer and Fraser knew better than to push. Ray was going to
work through this on his own; all Fraser could do was be there. 

 Ray got out of the car at the precinct and, after collecting Dief, made
his way into the imposing building. Fraser stood and watched him go, then
turned and began the walk to the Consulate. He needed the exercise. 

 The precinct, as usual, was buzzing with people and Ray felt a new, yet
already frighteningly familiar ache begin, deep down in his broken place.
Dief pressed close against his pack mate, sensing fear. But underneath
that fear was determination and Dief respected that. 

 Taking a deep breath, Ray raised his head and made his way through the
crowd. The challenging look in his eyes caused people to get out of his
way. Those who decided to give back the attitude soon changed their minds
when the wild animal at Ray's side raised its hackles and growled. 

 He made it as far as the squad room before his legs gave out, and he sat
at his desk, head in hands, just trying to breathe, trying to ignore the
ache. 

 "Ray? Ray are you okay?" It was Frannie. 

 Ray looked up and smiled weakly. 

 "I'll be fine Frannie. Just a bit, y'know..." He rolled his eyes and
Frannie smiled back. 

 "Yeah I know," she said. "Even when you're feeling okay it's still like
that." She paused. "D'you want anything Ray? Coffee?" 

 "Yeah coffee would be good Frannie. Is the Lieutenant around?" 

 "He's in his office," she answered. "Nobody's with him. Go on in and I'll
bring the coffee." 

 "Okay, thanks." 

 He stood up, and took a deep breath, then walked the few steps to the
office and did his best to lounge in the doorway in his old way. 

 Welsh looked up and nodded him to a seat, not saying anything. He raised
an eyebrow as Dief sat at Ray's feet, but still didn't speak. 

 "Sir," Ray began, then stopped as Frannie brought in the coffee. He
smiled his thanks and then waited for her to leave. 

 "Lieutenant," he began again. "I've written out my resignation; got it
here," He held up the letter he had written. "I thought you should have it
hand delivered though. It didn't seem right that I just mail it to you." 

 "You've thought about it?" Welsh said, and Ray nodded. 

 "I haven't thought about much else for a while now. It's what I want to
do. I'm sorry if I've let you down..." 

 "No, Kowalski. You haven't let anybody down," said Welsh. "I don't want
your resignation but I'll accept it. Have you thought what you're going to
do?" 

 "I'm going to Canada with Fraser," said Ray simply. "I need space now,
Lieu. I don't want to be in the city. Too many memories." 

 "And nothing I can say or do will change your mind?" asked Welsh. Ray
shook his head and the Lieutenant sighed. 

 "Very well. I'll see what I can do about your Pension. Let me know when
you're leaving." He paused, and then, because he couldn't help himself, he
said, "Let me know you're okay." 

 "I will sir," said Ray. "I guess my work has been handed over to other
detectives by now, so there's nothing for me to do?" 

 Welsh shook his head. 

 "You're still on sick leave detective, so no, not right now. Go. I don't
want to see your ugly mug again until I wave you off on your way to the
airport. Okay?" 

 "Okay." Ray stood up then hesitated, not sure what to do. Finally he
walked over to the desk and stuck out his hand. Welsh was momentarily
startled, but then took the proffered hand and shook it warmly. 

 "Be happy," he said. 

 "I will," answered Ray, and turning, he walked out of Welsh's office, the
squad room, the precinct, and his old life. His broken place was aching a
little less. 

 He was still holding his head high when he reached the car, unlocked it
and climbed in, Dief jumping into his accustomed place. Once the door of
the car was closed and locked, he rested his head against the steering
wheel and closed his eyes so tightly he could see stars. 

 He put his hand on his stomach, but it didn't hurt so much. He had taken
the first step away from this place he had come to hate, and the first
step towards a new life. He had forged a new life for himself on many
occasions it was part of the undercover gig but he couldn't remember ever
wanting his new life so badly. 

 He jumped as a cold wet nose nuzzled the back of his neck, and then sat
back, starting the car. 

 "Okay Dief," he said. "Let's go collect our man." 

 

 "Ray!" Fraser exclaimed as the door to the Consulate opened. "That didn't
take long." 

 "Nope," said Ray, "Didn't have much to say." 

 Fraser could see that Ray looked better than he would have thought. He
seemed to have faced his demons in the brief time they had been apart, and
he was winning the battle. Fraser smiled to himself; he should have known
that Ray would do it his own way in the end; he always did. 

 "So you spoken to the I erm, Inspector Thatcher?" asked Ray. 

 "I have indeed Ray," said Fraser. "She has agreed to put my transfer
request in as soon as possible." 

 Ray frowned. "What did she say?" 

 "Oh, er, nothing," answered Fraser. "Well, that is to say she was a
little disappointed that I wish to leave." 

 "Oh I'll just bet she was," said Ray. 

 Fraser looked up sharply at the tone of Ray's voice, but Ray's face was
carefully blank. 

 "I have to work Ray," said Fraser, "So I can't leave the Consulate yet." 

 "I know," answered Fraser. "I was just coming to tell you that I've done
it and that I'm fine. Me and Dief are going for a walk in the park now." 

 "Are you sure?" asked Fraser, a little bit too quickly. Ray frowned. 

 "Yeah, I'm sure. I'm okay Fraser, honest." 

 Fraser looked at Dief. The wolf would never let anything happen to Ray,
and Ray seemed to need this now. 

 "Very well." He paused. "Ray..." 

 "I'm fine," Ray said. "We'll be back soon." He turned to open the door
again, then turned back. 

 "Thanks Fraser." Fraser raised one eyebrow, and Ray shook his head. "Just
thanks." 

 

 The walk to the park was more difficult than Ray expected people seemed
to be looking at him as if they knew what had happened, and at one point
he had frozen as a gang of half a dozen young men came towards him. They
had parted and flowed around him, still talking to each other, totally
ignoring Ray. He took a deep breath and looked down at Dief, who grinned
encouragingly. 

 "Come on," he said. "Let's go." 

 The park was almost empty at this time the middle of the morning on a
workday. Dief reverted to puppydom and hurtled around the open spaces
chasing imaginary rabbits. Ray sat on the grass, his back firmly against a
tree, and closed his eyes, tilting his head up to the light. He could feel
himself relaxing. 

 He thought about the previous night's dream, but in the light of day it
didn't have the immediate horror he expected. He had taken control again,
so in the end, he had won. 

 His thoughts turned to Fraser, as they often did, and he smiled towards
the sky. It had been tough for Fraser as well, but he had been there,
through it all, just waiting for Ray to need him. How could he go wrong
when he had that? As long as Fraser was there then he would always win. 

 He had no idea how long he sat there before Dief collapsed beside him.
Ray put his hand briefly on the wolf's fur before he pulled himself to his
feet and began the walk back to the Consulate. 

 When he got there and opened the door, there was no sign of Fraser.
Turnbull was deeply engrossed in a telephone conversation, so Ray made his
way down towards Fraser's office. The door was open and Ray stopped for a
second to take in the sight that met his eyes. 

 Fraser was sitting at his desk, reading a report. It suddenly struck Ray
how tired Fraser was looking and he felt a twinge of guilt that he was the
cause of it. He stepped forward into the office and closed the door. 

 Fraser looked up and his eyes crinkled a little, but he didn't smile. 

 "Okay?" he asked. 

 "Yeah, fine," said Ray. "You look tired." 

 "No I'm fine," answered Fraser. 

 Ray walked behind Fraser and put his hands on the red-clad shoulders,
rubbing the tense muscles. 

 "No you're not," he said. "You're tired." He paused. "I never meant to be
such a pain, Frase." 

 "Oh Ray," Fraser let himself lean back so his head was resting against
Ray's stomach. "None of this was your fault, you have to believe that." 

 "I think I do now," said Ray. "Or at least I'm starting to think that."
He reached down and kissed the side of Fraser's neck. "Do I gotta go home
now?" he asked. 

 "Yes, I think you do," Fraser said. He turned his head so that he could
kiss Ray properly. "I really think you do." 

 

 Things got better after that. Ray began to relax as he realised that he
would be out of Chicago soon, and he encouraged Fraser to tell him about
living in the 'tundra'. He and Dief went out every day, sometimes just
around the block, sometimes as far as the park, and slowly scar tissue
began to form over his broken place. He got through each day in a whirl of
activity, making arrangements for furniture and belongings to be put into
storage until he knew exactly where he was going. He had a brief, painful
meeting with his parents; his mother holding his hand, his father busily
ignoring him. At least they agreed to look after the turtle. 

 At night he would drape himself over Fraser and the two men would kiss
and touch, but it rarely went further, leaving Fraser in sweet torment. He
would lie awake listening to Ray breathe and unconsciously his hand would
stray down to touch himself, stroking the hard, aching flesh, but he would
always stop himself; it seemed wrong to him in a way he couldn't fathom. 

 

 "Frase?" Ray woke up suddenly, not sure why. He was pressed against
Fraser's warm body, one arm draped across his waist. 

 "What is it Ray?" asked Fraser softly. 

 "Nothing. You okay?" 

 "Go to sleep. I'm fine." 

 Ray shifted his position and his thigh brushed against Fraser's hardness.


 "Oh Frase," he said. "Is that because of me?" 

 "Well yes Ray," said Fraser. Ray snorted. 

 "That's not what I meant." He moved his hand down until his fingers were
brushing the hot skin. 

 "Ray, don't," said Fraser. "Not if you don't want to." 

 Ray didn't answer, but slowly he wrapped his fingers around Fraser and
began to move his hand. Fraser's reaction was immediate and his hips
arched off the bed. 

 "I've been neglecting you," Ray said softly into Fraser's ear. "I never
meant to." 

 "But I didn't think you wanted this," Fraser gasped, trying to hang on to
some measure of sanity. 

 "I want what you want," said Ray, moving his hand faster. "Come on Frase,
you need this." 

 Blindly Fraser reached for Ray, kissing him, his hips rising to meet
Ray's hand. He couldn't last long and with one final thrust he came,
spilling over Ray's hand. 

 It took Fraser a minute to get his breathing under control. He then
realised that he had his hands tangled in Ray's hair. He forced his
fingers to relax, letting Ray go, but Ray didn't move away, his face
pressed close to Fraser's. 

 "Ray..." Fraser began, but Ray shook his head. 

 "Nope," he said. "Don't. I love you. I want you to be happy. Sleep now." 

 He lay his head on Fraser's shoulder, one leg nestled between his thighs.
He was practically lying on top of Fraser, who revelled in the warmth and
weight of him. 

 

 The following Saturday, Fraser left Ray asleep in bed and went to walk
Dief and buy more of Ray's never ending supply of coffee. On the way back
he collected the mail and walked up the stairs idly leafing through the
usual collection of bills and junk. Then he saw it. The RCMP crest
standing out proudly on the letter. He stopped on the stairs and closed
his eyes. This was it. 

 Unable to stop himself he opened the letter and scanned its contents
before going any further. Then he hefted his purchases and continued into
the apartment. Ray was awake but barely, still lying in bed. He raised one
hand as Fraser walked in but didn't speak. 

 "Inuvik, Ray. That's where we'll be going." Fraser sat on the bed and
handed Ray the letter. 

 Ray barely glanced at it. He was too taken up with staring at Fraser. A
Fraser he had never seen; a Fraser he didn't know had existed. He looked
years younger and already there was a far away look in his eyes; he wasn't
seeing their apartment now, Ray realised; he was seeing a cabin surrounded
by snow with a warm fire. Dogs in the shed... he was seeing his old life
coming back. 

 "Oh man," he said. "So it's really going to happen." He sat up in bed and
wrapped his arms around his upraised knees. 

 "Yes it is," said Fraser. He didn't say anything else, he didn't know how
to. 

 "This is it," continued Ray, waving the letter at Fraser. "This is the
freedom I've been waiting for. Things are better, y'know? I don't look
over my shoulder all the time, but it's only because I know that I'm
leaving. And now I am. We are." 

 He threw the letter over the side of the bed. "Come here," he said. 

 Fraser leaned obediently into the embrace, expecting nothing. Ray liked
being held but since the night he had woken to find Fraser aching and
needy, he had rarely initiated sex, and Fraser tried not to push him. 

 This time though, Fraser could tell it was going to be different. Ray lay
back on the bed, pulling Fraser with him, kissing him hard, tongue licking
along Fraser's bottom lip. Fraser opened his mouth and Ray immediately
deepened the kiss. At the same time, he began to pull at Fraser's shirt.
Fraser pushed his hand away and began to unfasten it himself. 

 As soon as he had unfastened enough buttons for easy access, Ray slid his
hand into the shirt, stroking the broad chest. With a twist of his body he
flipped them so that Fraser was on the bottom, and continued kissing him. 

 Eventually they both had to come up for air and Ray took the opportunity
to unfasten the rest of the shirt buttons, pushing the material apart to
give him full access to Fraser's chest. His hands moved lower, to the
button of Fraser's jeans, while his tongue followed the thin line of dark
hair on Fraser's stomach. 

 "Up," he muttered. Fraser lifted his hips so that Ray could get the jeans
off completely. They were dropped over the side of the bed where they
covered the letter which had given Ray his freedom. 

 Ray covered Fraser's solid body with his own, moving gently. Fraser
parted his legs slightly and slowly ran his hands down Ray's back, pulling
the smaller man closer. 

 "You okay?" Ray whispered, lowering his head and licking along the line
of one strong shoulder. "You okay with this?" 

 "Oh yes Ray. Please...." It seemed an age since Fraser had been here,
enjoying this kind of intimacy with Ray. He was almost hard, and when Ray
reached a hand down and began to gently stroke, Fraser's hips almost
bucked them both off the bed. 

 "It's okay," said Ray, kissing Fraser softly, slowly. "It's okay. We're
okay." He stopped moving and just lay there staring into Fraser's eyes.
"We're okay," he said again. 

 Suddenly, he grinned at Fraser who, caught off guard, couldn't help
grinning back immediately. Ray began to slide down Fraser's body creating
a friction so perfect that Fraser moaned his pleasure. It turned into a
muffled cry when a warm, wet, clever mouth surrounded his engorged cock. 

 Ray lifted one of his hands, pressing the fingers against Fraser's mouth.
Fraser, understanding immediately, opened his mouth and suckled Ray's
fingers until they were thoroughly wet. 

 When Ray carefully inserted one of those wet fingers into Fraser, both
men grunted. Fraser, approaching desperation, reached down and pulled on
the blond hair until Ray lifted his head. 

 "What?" he said. 

 "Ray, don't... if you're going to do that I won't last two minutes." 

 "Oh, okay," said Ray conversationally, shifting his attention to Fraser's
stomach and chest. He gently inserted another finger into Fraser. 

 By the time Ray replaced his fingers with his cock, Fraser was so close
to the edge that he was glassy eyed and trembling with the effort of
holding himself in. 

 "So fucking beautiful Frase," gasped Ray, moving inside his man. "We're
gonna make it work, you and me, right?" 

 Fraser couldn't answer. His fingers were tangled in the sheets, clenching
and relaxing with each of Ray's thrusts. His legs were wrapped around
Ray's waist, holding him close and his whole body was flushed and
straining. It was the best sight Ray had ever seen. 

 "Ray!" Suddenly Fraser trembled and came, one hand reaching blindly for
Ray as wave after wave took him. It took Ray over the edge, the sight of
this beautiful man losing it so completely because of him, and he came
hard, the pleasure so intense it was almost pain. 

 He collapsed onto Fraser and both men lay there recovering for what
seemed like an age. Finally Fraser shifted his hips and Ray rolled to one
side with a groan. 

 The bed sagged as Fraser climbed out, returning a moment later with a
washcloth. He washed Ray gently then dropped the cloth onto the jeans with
hardly a backward glance. 

 He put an arm around Ray, who rolled willingly into the embrace resting
his head in its accustomed place on Fraser's shoulder. 

 "Thanks Frase," he said drowsily, already slipping happily into sleep. 

 "For what?" asked Fraser, deliciously relaxed himself. 

 "Just stuff," answered Ray. "You know." 

 Fraser briefly tightened his arm around the smaller man. 

 "Yes Ray. I know." 

 THE END