Loose Ends Part 3	Loose Ends Part 3 by Alison

 Author's disclaimer: They belong to Alliance

 Author's notes: Here it is then; the last part. I hope you enjoy it, and
I'd love to hear from you.

  

 When I get the phone call on my last day in Toronto, my heart almost
stops. 

 "Hey Frase, I just called to let you know that I won't be able to pick
you up from the station." 

 Similar words echo eerily in my head and for a moment I can't breathe,
can't speak, can't think. Deep down inside I hear a plaintive cry. 

 //No! Not you as well! Don't leave me!// 

 "Of course Ray. That's no problem " I bite down hard on an hysterical
urge to laugh. If he says one thing about friendship... 

 He doesn't, and I manage to get something approaching a grip. 

 "I've got to go to court again tomorrow," he explains. "Same as today and
yesterday and the day before that -." 

 I smile, even though I know he can't see me. Ray hates being still, and
this trial does seem to be dragging on. 

 Torturing myself, I have to say it. 

 "How is Stella?" 

 I hear a half-muffled sigh, then he says. "It's okay. You don't have to
be polite. She's the same." 

 He doesn't say anything else and I don't push. Since he went out to
dinner with her, he has been silent on the subject. That something
happened is undeniable, but he obviously doesn't want to say anything, and
I'm not willing to push. 

 "So anyway," he says, shaking off his mood. "You'll be at the apartment
first, so be prepared for chaos. Dief has taken to trashing the place." 

 "I'll have a word with him," I promise 

 "Appreciate it," he answers. Then his voice gets quieter, drops lower,
and I feel that tone all over my body. 

 "I've missed you," he says. That's all. He hangs up. 

 I put the phone down slowly. Only 8 hours. In 8 hours I'll be back in
Chicago. I'll be home. 

 

 After I report my return to Inspector Thatcher and drop off various
official papers, I am free to leave the Consulate. Although the Inspector
does not approve of my living arrangements, she seems to accept them. I'm
not at all sure Turnbull has noticed my absence. Ray decided some time ago
that 'we should get Turnbull laid.' I rather hope his idea stays at the
planning stage, since the apple of Turnbull's eye is undoubtedly Ray,
although as yet Ray is oblivious to it, and I intend to see that he stays
that way. 

 When I open the door to the apartment I barely have time to register the
mess before I am bowled backwards by an enthusiastic show of welcome.
Living with Ray for a month appears to have destroyed any inhibitions Dief
has ever had. 

 I fight him back into the apartment, fending him off as much as possible,
then look around. 

 Ye gods. I've got some work ahead of me if this place is going to be
presentable. 

 "Well look at that," I bellow to Dief, looking down at the dust on the
coffee table. "I do believe that's the same message he wrote to me before
I went away. He's obviously lost the use of his arms." 

 In that peculiar way of his the bathroom is spotless. Ray is a slob about
everything else, but the bathroom has to be clean. 

 

 Two hours later I'm bowled over again by an enthusiastic show of welcome
as Ray wraps himself around me, tackling me to the floor. 

 "God, Frase, I've missed you so much!" He kisses me, long and hard and my
body begins to react, as it always does, to the taste and sight and smell
of him. I wrap my arms around him, oblivious to everything but the feel of
his body, until he kicks me sharply on the ankle. 

 "Can't breathe," he pants in my ear. "Loosen up a bit, huh?" 

 I let go and he sits back on his heels, keeping one hand tangled in mine.
He looks tired and wild-eyed, and he's lost weight he can ill afford. But
the sight of him makes me feel so full, and I know I'm grinning like an
idiot. 

 He stands up and pulls me with him, until we're standing practically nose
to nose. 

 "So how was your trip?" he says conversationally, long fingers beginning
to unbuckle and unbutton. He learned very quickly how to get me out of the
dress uniform with minimum effort. 

 "Oh fine," I match him tone for tone, slipping my hands inside his jacket
and releasing his shoulder harness. "Winter's on its way though." 

 "Hmmm," he says. He slips my tunic from my shoulders and lets it fall to
the ground. I raise an eyebrow at him, but don't make a move to pick it
up. He says something which sounds very like, "Attaboy." 

 I put up one hand to loosen his tie. I can feel his pulse speeding up,
but he's not ready to surrender yet. I put my other hand to his mouth and
watch in delight as he begins to suck my index finger. I have to briefly
close my eyes or I will lose the game. 

 Pulling his tie off, I unbutton his shirt and attempt to push that and
his jacket off with one hand. A dismal failure, but with something which
could possibly be called a shimmy, Ray helps me along. 

 He pulls away from my fingers and rests his hand on my hip. 

 "See any nice sights while you were there?" 

 His breathing's getting ragged now and I put my hand on him, stroking
gently. He grunts, but doesn't move against me. 

 "Oh I didn't get much time for sightseeing," I answer, having difficulty
controlling my own breathing now. "You know how it is, being the new boy
and getting all the boring oh!" 

 Those clever, clever fingers slip inside my pants and close around me. He
grins and it's pure promise. 

 I can't help moving my hips, rocking into his hand. He licks his lips and
I feel, rather than hear, myself growl. 

 "I think this is the best sight I could ever see," he says, and with no
further ado, slides to his knees. Freeing me from too restrictive cloth,
he puts out his tongue, but doesn't quite touch me. 

 He looks up at me out of those wild eyes, like some kind of fallen angel,
and I put my hand out to cradle his face. 

 "Please," I whisper. 

 Rubbing his face against my hand, he nods once, then leans forward and
takes me in. 

 I move my hand to rest on the top of his head, running my fingers through
his hair. I don't try and control what he's doing I have learned better. I
don't need to try anyway. He knows how to tease me until I'm whimpering,
almost unable to stand. 

 He takes pity on me and does that thing to me, using the flat of his
tongue and his teeth, and it pushes me over the edge. It's the end of a
month of abstinence and I feel it right down to my toes. 

 As soon as he releases me, I slide to my knees in a poor imitation of his
earlier graceful movement. I hug him, just hug him, so hard. 

 "You hungry?" he says at last, beginning to squirm. 

 I nod, then reach between us with one hand. He stops me and I raise an
eyebrow at him. 

 "Call for pizza," he says. 

 "But Ray -," 

 He blushes and briefly buries his face in my shoulder. "Kinda took care
of itself," he says. "I really need a shower now." 

 I let him go, trying not to smile. "So it was a draw this time?" I ask. 

 "God no!" he says, looking at me, all devilment again. "I got you beat." 

 "Whatever you say Ray," I lean forward and kiss him briefly. I am so
happy to see him. 

 

 But like an itch, which will not go away however much you scratch, I find
myself turning the conversation to Stella. 

 It starts simply enough when I ask him how the trial is going. 

 He shrugs, relaxed, boneless. He's stretched out on the couch with is
feet in my lap. He's looking better; still tired but the wildness is
fading. 

 "S'goin'," he says. "Wilson that's the prosecutor is givin' me a
seriously hard time though I think I must have offended him in a past
life." 

 "And Stella?" I ask. 

 "Well I've offended her in this life," he answers, then flinches as I
pinch one of his toes. "Okay! Hands off the merchandise." He scrubs his
hands over his face, then looks directly at me. 

 "Do you wanna really know about the case or do you wanna know about
Stella?" 

 I begin to protest that it's the case I'm interested in, but he raises
his eyebrows and glares until I back down. 

 "I realise that there are parts of your life which you would like to keep
private, but you haven't said anything and -," 

 "And?" he repeats. 

 "And you haven't been eating, which means you're worried," I blurt out. 

 He looks at me and shakes his head. 

 "Whatever. Look Frase, I don't want to keep anything from you, I really
don't, but Stella -," he stops, then starts again. "She's really angry
about us. When we went out to dinner she said some things that were
cruel." 

 I open my mouth to ask him what he means but he lifts one hand. 

 "I don't want to tell you, okay?" he says. 

 I nod and close my mouth. If Ray is pushed somewhere he doesn't want to
go, he gets very stubborn. 

 "Anyway, in a way it was good," he continues, "because I know how she
feels now. We might be friends again one day, but not now." 

 He's got his head against the arm of the couch and it takes me a second
to realise what's happening. When I do I push his feet off my lap and
practically crawl up the couch so that I can pull him into my arms. 

 He's crying because he's tired and because he's said goodbye to a huge
part of his life. But he's also crying because he's Ray, and Ray has no
shields to hide behind, no armour to keep him sheltered from the world. I
wouldn't have him any other way, but when he's like this I almost hate the
world for damaging him. 

 I murmur wordlessly until the storm passes, just holding him, then he
settles himself curled against me as we watch some inane sitcom on the
television. Although I don't think either of us actually watches it he's
turned inward, thinking, and I'm watching him. Dief appears to be an avid
fan though. 

 We sit quietly for some time. In fact I'm starting to drop off when Ray
suddenly says, "She never used to be like that, you know. Cruel." 

 "She can't have been if you loved her," I answer, and he snorts. 

 "Oh please! I've told you that I was no saint." He rubs his cheek against
my shoulder. 

 "No, we used to fit. I never thought I'd find that again, but I have, and
she hasn't, so perhaps that's part of her problem." 

 He sighs, stretching. "I just don't know. All the time you were away, I
kept thinking about it, trying to think what I could do to make it better
between us, but I just keep coming up against a brick wall." 

 He leans forward, head in his hands, and I rub his back. 

 "You can't make it right by yourself Ray," I say. "She will have to meet
you halfway, and I think you realise that this isn't going to happen
soon." 

 "You're right, I know you're right. I'm obsessing aren't I?" 

 "A bit," I smile and stand up. I hold out my hand. "Come to bed?" 

 He smiles back and the shadows in his eyes vanish briefly. "Thought you'd
never ask." 

 

 The last time we were together in bed I was rough with him, marking him
as my property. 

 This time it's as if I'm rediscovering something very precious that I had
thought I was in danger of losing. I really should have known better. Ray
is generous with his emotions, but he is also loyal. And he loves me. 

 As I kiss him and taste him, I come to a realisation of my own; one which
is so obvious that I laugh. 

 "What?" he says, offended. 

 "I love you Ray," 

 He smiles that blinding smile. 

 "Oh that," he says. "I know that." 

 I look at him, offended in my turn. "What do you mean, 'I know that,'?" I
ask. 

 He shrugs, reaching up a hand so that he can stroke down my chest. 

 "I've always known you don't show emotion," he says, "but we're together
so much I've learned to listen to what you don't say, if that makes
sense." Suddenly he puts both arms around me and holds me close. 

 "I don't need you to say it," he says. "I just need you to be here and
show me, okay?" 

 I nod and kiss the hollow of his throat. He slides his hands down my back
and pulls me close. 

 "Now are you gonna show me a good time?" he demands, voice playful. 

 I raise myself so that I can see his face, his beautiful, loved face. 

 "Ray, my friend," I say, "I am going to show you a darn good time, or die
trying." 

 THE END