All Due South characters belong to Alliance. This story is rated NC-17 for
m/m (BF/RK) interaction. It is told from Fraser's POV. Hey Linda, thanks. 

Feedback turns my crank Albertacr@home.com  Sins of the Father by Alberta 

Something was bothering Ray tonight, but he obviously didn't want to talk
about it. I haven't been liaising with the Chicago police department this
past week due to Consular commitments, but Ray has been keeping me
apprised of the cases he's been assigned. At Leftenant Welsh's insistence,
he's been working closely with Detectives Huey and Dewey in my absence.
However, when I spoke to Ray earlier this evening, he seemed distracted,
disoriented, and when I questioned him about it, he promptly changed the
subject. He told me he'd be late tonight and not to hold dinner as he
would grab something at the precinct. So I reconciled myself to eating a
quiet dinner with Diefenbaker and spending a relaxing evening reading. 

It is now approximately 10pm and I'm in the kitchen preparing the coffee
maker for tomorrow morning's breakfast. I hear the key in the lock,
followed by the door opening and closing and the familiar cadence of Ray's
footsteps. A few moments later, he is behind me, his warm lips pressed
against my neck, his arms circling my waist, fingers caressing my chest. 

"Hey, Frase, you miss me?" 

I smile. "That depends. Who are you?" 

He playfully bites my ear. "Wise guy Mountie," he says. 

I begin to turn around to face him, but he holds me in place. "How was
your day?" I ask. 

"Don't wanna talk now," he says, and his left hand remains around my waist
while his right hand moves slowly down to my groin, which has already
responded to Ray's touch. He strokes me through my jeans, trailing his
tongue to my right ear. I turn my head obligingly and he takes the
opportunity to snake his hot, moist tongue deeply into my ear. I cannot
help but moan at the sensation.  

He continues to stroke my now very erect penis, and thrusts gently against
me with his own arousal. He removes his tongue from my ear, and resumes
kissing my neck, his left hand now squeezing my left nipple through my
shirt.	

"C'mon, let's go to bed," he whispers into my ear, his breath hot and
extremely arousing.  

The phone rings. Normally, Ray would allow it to ring at a time such as
this, but his body tenses as he pulls away from me. 

"Damn," he says and turns to answer it. "Yeah, what?" he barks into the
receiver, sounding agitated, tired. Apparently the news is not good as he
sighs loudly into the phone. I turn to face him. He's leaning over the
breakfast bar, his forehead resting on his hand. "Okay, thanks. Yeah, see
you tomorrow." 

He hangs up the phone and rubs his eyes. 

"What's wrong?" I ask. 

He shakes his head. "Don't wanna talk, Frase." He turns around to face me
and forces a smile. "Meet ya in the bedroom," he says as he leaves the
kitchen and approaches the bedroom door. I turn towards the counter to
finish what I was doing, contemplating whether to pursue who was on the
phone with Ray. Whoever it was obviously upset him. 

I complete my job and reach over to turn off the kitchen light. During
that brief time, I decide not to press Ray...he obviously doesn't wish to
discuss the events of the day nor the phone call he just received. I walk
towards the bedroom, stopping short. Ray is still in the living room just
outside the bedroom door...his back is to me and he's facing the
wall...his forehead is resting against the wall as are the palms of his
hands. I rush over to him and place my hand on his shoulder. 

"Ray, what's wrong?" I ask him again. 

He takes a deep breath. "Fraser, can we please not talk about this?" his
voice wavers. He turns around and leans his back against the wall, his
eyes meeting mine. "Let's just be together," he says, and he moves in
closer to me and kisses me lightly on the lips. I watch him turn and
disappear into the bedroom.  

I wait a few moments and follow him in. The room is dark... Ray is sitting
on the edge of the bed wearing only jeans, his eyes gazing out the window.
I walk over and sit next to him, resting my chin on his shoulder, my arms
wrapped around his chest. I will follow his lead tonight. He shifts his
position so he's facing me. He leans in and kisses me passionately, his
tongue pressing into my mouth, his arms around my neck pulling me closer.
He breaks the kiss and whispers into my ear.  

"I want you to fuck me." 

He unbuttons my jeans and pulls the zipper down. I sense his immediacy, so
I assist, unbuttoning my own shirt and removing it, then loosening his
jeans. We both stand and shed the remainder of our clothing, as well as
our shoes and socks. He kisses me again, urgently, his hands caressing my
back, his arousal pumping into mine. He slides down to his knees and
quickly takes me into his mouth, almost causing me to lose my balance. My
eyes closed, I place my hands on either side of his head stroking his soft
hair, immersed in the sensation of his mouth and tongue engulfing me. 

I am very close now, so I pull back from him. He looks up at me knowingly
and climbs into bed. I watch as he lies down on his stomach, placing a
pillow under his hips, spreading his legs apart inviting me. His body is
beautiful, lean, long, smooth contours...I feel myself becoming more
aroused at the sight of him. I climb into bed and reach over to the drawer
of the night stand, but he grabs my hand. 

"No," he says. 

"But, Ray, we need....." 

"No, we don't. Fuck me Fraser, do it now." 

I am at a loss as to why he's acting in this manner. Surely he knows this
will be painful without lubricant. 

"Ray, I don't want to hurt you, " I say. 

"Just do it, Frase.....please." He is pleading with me. 

I position myself between his legs. He spreads them wider. I look at his
face...his head is to one side so I can see his profile...his eyes are
closed....his face expressionless. I place three fingers into my mouth to
coat them with saliva and position them to Ray's opening, sliding one in
tentatively. He lifts his head up and jerks his body away.  

"No, Fraser, don't. Just fuck me. Do it." The pleading tone is gone, he's
now ordering me. 

I cannot do this, I know I'll hurt him. 

"Ray, I...." 

He turns his head and he's looking into my eyes. "Fraser, I need this.
Please." He implores me again. 

"All right, Ray." He turns his head around and rests his chin on the
pillow, so I cannot see his face. 

I lick my hand to coat it with saliva and slide it across my penis. He
knows what I'm doing and sighs loudly, but he doesn't speak. I place my
penis to his opening and push slightly...there is resistance as I knew
there would be. I push harder and I gain access, but stop as I'm already
hurting him. His hands are in fists gripping the sheets and his breathing
is becoming labored. He senses my reluctance. 

"Fraser." His voice is strained. 

I resume pushing slowly...again licking my hand and applying more saliva
to my penis to ease the way in. I am about half way inside and I can hear
Ray's muffled cries into his pillow...I'm hurting him...but, apparently,
this is what he wants. It upsets me, but I cannot ignore the blissful
physical sensation I am feeling as I enter his body. Suddenly Ray pushes
back against me, forcing my penis to plunge all the way inside him. He
cries out but doesn't speak, falling back down onto the bed, bringing me
with him. I remain still and wait. His breathing is very labored now, and
I'm well aware he doesn't want me to move until his body adjusts to the
sudden intrusion. After a few moments, the harshness of his breathing
subsides. I feel his muscles relaxing. 

"Okay," he says quietly. 

I begin to move slowly, thrusting in and out gently. The strong resistance
I initially encountered continues to abate, so I begin moving more
quickly. 

"Harder," he demands. 

I comply, thrusting into him quickly, deeply, unrelentingly. Ray's face is
still buried into his pillow, his cries muffled, his fists tugging at the
sheets. I am very close now, losing myself in the physical, succumbing to
the overwhelming sensations. 

"Fuck me harder, Frase... harder," Ray yells. 

I obey and pump harder, faster. I am just on the edge now. I can feel,
hear and see Ray's orgasm, his pulsating body bringing me to even greater
heights, his cries no longer muffled as his head is turned to one side.
His eyes are tightly closed and his lips are parted allowing short, ragged
bursts of sound to escape from his mouth.  

I lose awareness of him as my own orgasm overtakes me...extremely
powerful, intense...I cannot control my own cries of pleasure. 

I fall on top of Ray, slipping out of him...he is panting, his body
heaving with each breath. I shift onto my side to the right of him, my
left arm around his waist, all the while attempting to control my own
breathing. I lean towards Ray and kiss his shoulder softly....a paradox
from my previous lovemaking, which I feel bordered on brutality. I want to
talk to him about this, but I know Ray...he'll refuse to speak of it until
he's ready. I have to try, but decide to wait until the moment is
right....which is not now. 

Our breathing has returned to normal. Ray rolls onto his right side and
presses his back into my chest. With his left hand, he removes my arm from
around his waist, bringing my hand to his lips, kissing it gently. He
intertwines the fingers of his right hand with my left, gripping them
closely to his chest. We lie there quietly for a few minutes until the
room begins to feel cool against my bare skin. 

"Are you cold, Ray?" I ask quietly. 

"Um, yeah, I guess a little," he says.	

I remove my hand from his, with some effort as he doesn't give it up
willingly, and pull the comforter up over us. He snuggles in closer to me.
Again, we're silent for a few minutes. Then Ray speaks. 

"Sorry, Frase," he says softly. 

"For what?" I ask. 

"You didn't wanna do that, I mean, you didn't wanna do it like that." 

"I was concerned about hurting you, Ray." I lean forward and lightly kiss
the back of his neck. 

"Yeah, well, I deserve to be hurt," he says, his voice trembling. 

"Why would you say that?" 

"Um...I....forget it, Fraser, I shouldn've said anything." 

"Ray....." 

"Fraser, please, I can't now." His voice breaks. 

"Alright, Ray. We don't have to talk about it now," I say, pulling him
closer to me. I can't imagine what happened today to throw him into such a
state.	

"Thanks, Frase," he says. And in a matter of minutes I hear the steady
rhythm of his breathing which tells me he's asleep. I feel myself being
drawn into sleep shortly afterwards. 

******************** 

I wake up early which is usual, but Ray is already up, which is not. I
approach the bathroom and hear him moving about the kitchen talking
quietly to Diefenbaker. It's not long before I'm showered and dressed in
my red serge and joining him and Dief in the kitchen. He's sitting at the
table hunched over a cup of coffee, both elbows on the table, his forehead
resting on his hands. He looks up at me as I enter. 

"Hey Frase." He has dark circles under his eyes, evidently from lack of
sleep. 

"'Morning, Ray. Can I make you some breakfast?" I ask, pouring the hot
water Ray has prepared into the cup with the tea bag waiting for me. 

"No, thanks, not hungry." Ray notices me looking over towards Diefenbaker.
"Dief's good...I walked him and fed him," he says. I look at him and smile
in gratitude and receive a half-smile in response. 

I sit down at the table next to Ray with my cup of tea. Again, silence for
a few minutes.	

"Ray, what happened yesterday?" I ask.	

He shakes his head. "I'm gonna be late. We'll talk later, 'kay?" He pushes
his chair back and stands up. 

I grab his wrist. "No, Ray, not later. You were upset when I spoke to you
on the phone yesterday, you were even more upset after you received that
phone call last night...and then you demanded I hurt you in bed....." 

"You didn't hurt me, Frase," he insists. 

"Okay, Ray. But you have to admit, you asked me to be quite rough with you
last night, and it obviously has something to do with what happened
yesterday. I want you to talk to me." 

He pulls his hand away, but not in anger. "Look, Fraser, I know you wanna
talk about this, and we will, but not now. There's some things I hafta
take care of this morning." He picks up his coffee cup and brings it to
the sink. 

"When, Ray?" I ask, turning in my chair to look at him.  

He leans against the sink, his head down. 

"I'll pick you up lunchtime, say one o'clock, and we can talk then. Do you
think you can get away?" He turns to look at me, his eyes questioning. 

"I can get away," I say as I stand, removing the cup of tea and bringing
it to the sink. 

"Fraser, you didn't even drink your tea. Look...I hafta take care of
something now. Why don't you finish your tea and have some breakfast...you
can walk to the Consulate this morning, can't ya?" He's asking me this as
he gathers up his jacket and keys and approaches the door. 

"Yes, of course, Ray. So, I'll see you at one." I feel the need to remind
him. 

"Yeah, one o'clock," he says. 

And he's out the door. I return to the table, cup in hand, and think about
Ray while drinking my morning tea. 

******************** 

One o'clock has come and gone and I haven't heard from Ray. I am both
angry and concerned. I've been stood up by Ray before, but this is
different. Something obviously occurred yesterday which has affected him
badly. I decide to walk to the precinct with Diefenbaker. 

We arrive at two o'clock and enter the bullpen to the usual buzz of
activity. I note that Ray is not at his desk...nor is his jacket.
Francesca is on the telephone leaning on her desk so I approach her and
wait patiently. My attention is drawn to Detective Huey who has just come
out of Leftenant Welsh's office, and is sitting down behind his desk. I
walk over to him.  

"Good afternoon, Detective Huey." He looks up at me with surprise on his
face. 

"Fraser, I thought you were busy at the Consulate all week," he says,
turning his attention to a file on his desk. 

"Yes, well, I managed to get away for a while. I'd like to ask you
something," I say, attempting to sound as casual as possible under the
circumstances. 

"Shoot," he says, looking back up at me. 

I lean forward and lower my voice. "Do you know where Ray is?" I ask. 

He looks over to Ray's desk. "I guess he's out. Is that what you wanted to
ask me?" 

"No. Well, yes, but I'd like to ask you something else." 

"Well, that's gonna cost you," he says. 

"Cost me? Are you referring to American or Canadian currency?" I ask. 

"I'm kidding, Fraser," he says. "What's your question?" 

"Well, Detective, it concerns yesterday....did something happen that may
have upset Ray?" I ask, still trying to sound casual about the matter. 

He looks around the room and pats the chair next to his desk. I walk
around the chair and sit down. Now he leans into me. "What did Ray say?"
he asks. 

"Well...he didn't really say anything, but he was upset," I say. 

"Yeah, well, there was an incident yesterday and he took it kind of hard."
 

"May I ask what it was?"  

He shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah, sure, Fraser...don't know why Ray didn't
tell you. We got a call yesterday afternoon about a guy holding his kid
hostage. When we arrived at the house we see this guy around 35 years old
standing at the window of his second floor apartment. He's got his three
year old kid in his arms, and he's holding a gun to the kid's head. SWAT's
already there, but they can't get a clean shot because of the way he's
holding the kid. He's demanding something about his wife, but he won't let
anyone get close enough to find out what the hell he wants. It's obvious
he was on something. Anyway, after about three hours, Ray's had enough and
he goes upstairs and sneaks into the guy's apartment. We could see the
whole thing from the street. The guy's still screaming and Ray sneaks up
behind him and puts his gun to the guy's head. And that crazy asshole just
tosses his kid out the window. I mean, you could see it plain as day, the
guy purposely tossed the kid out the window. He had to be on something. We
see Ray disarm him and by the time he brings him downstairs, the guy's
pretty banged up. He's screaming that it's Ray's fault that he dropped his
kid and says he's pressing charges against him for police brutality. Welsh
was really pissed when he saw how beat up the guy was, but he didn't say
much to Ray because he saw how torn up he was over the kid. With the guy
screaming and pointing a finger at him, Ray took all the blame on himself.
We all tried to tell him that we saw the father toss the kid, but he
wouldn't listen. He came to the hospital with us to wait on word about the
kid's condition, but he was a wreck, ya know, blaming himself, so Welsh
finally made him go home. We found out around ten last night that the kid
didn't make it, so Welsh called Ray to tell him. There's an investigation
into this asshole's allegations against Ray. I mean, we all know the guy
threw his own kid out the window...it wasn't Ray's fault. And no one
blames Ray for what he did to that jerk...he deserved what he got and
more. Ray met with Welsh in his office this morning....." 

The phone rings on Detective Huey's desk interrupting him. He answers it. 

I sit back in my chair, stunned, attempting to digest everything Huey just
told me. Ray's behavior makes sense to me now...a reaction to blaming
himself for this poor child's death. I have to find him and somehow
convince him that it wasn't his fault. Although, I admit to myself that
I'm at a loss as to how to accomplish that as Ray doesn't even believe
eyewitnesses on the scene. My heart goes out to him as I know he's
suffering with this guilt, if not warranted. 

Leftenant Welsh comes out of his office and our eyes meet. He motions me
into his office, but I notice his attention is drawn to the door. I stand
and follow his eyes to find Ray entering the bullpen. He stops when he
sees me.  

"Vecchio, Constable, in my office please," Welsh says. And he returns to
his office. Ray walks over to me. 

"Sorry, Frase, I was just about to call to apologize for lunch," he says,
avoiding my gaze. 

"It's all right, but we need to talk," I say. 

He looks at me. "Yeah, I got a lot to tell you......" 

"I already know, Ray. Detective Huey told me." 

He looks at me briefly, the pain on his face apparent. "Oh, so you know
that I killed that little kid," he says quietly, his eyes again cast
towards the floor. 

"Ray, it wasn't your fault. The father...." 

"You weren't even there, how do you know?" he asks angrily, and he's
looking at me, his eyes watering. 

"No, I wasn't there, but Detective Huey as well as many other witnesses
saw what happened, and he told me it wasn't your fault," I say, placing my
hand on his shoulder. 

He looks at me again, his expression seemingly questioning my sincerity. 

"Vecchio, Constable, I don't have all day," Welsh bellows from behind his
desk.  

"We'll talk later," I say. 

He nods and we both walk into Welsh's office. I close the door behind us. 

The leftenant looks up at me and then at Ray. 

"Detective, I spent most of the day with IA discussing the events that
took place yesterday. They are satisfied that the death of the child was
not due to any actions on your part. The blood results showed that the
father was on crack cocaine, and all witnesses clearly saw him toss that
boy out the window. But IA isn't so sure about the beating the perp
received. While I'm convinced he deserved it, it's still against the law.
I'm working with the DA to get that creep to drop the charges against you,
and then I'm pretty confident I can convince IA to close this case. But
they insist you turn in your shield while they investigate. I'm sorry." 

"S'okay, Lieu. I'm getting off easy," Ray says. He takes his shield from
his back pocket and carefully places it on the leftenant's desk. Then he
removes his gun from his shoulder holster. 

"That won't be necessary, Detective. I don't need your gun." 

"Yeah, you do," Ray says. He places the gun on the desk. Then he kneels
down and removes his boot gun and lays it alongside the other one. 

"Kowalski, they cleared you....the kid wasn't your fault. Stop blaming
yourself." Leftenant Welsh is leaning across his desk...I see his eyes
boring into Ray's. 

But Ray will not be convinced. "Can I go now?" he asks. 

"Yeah, go ahead. Stay by your cell phone. I'll call you as soon as I know
something." 

"Thanks, Lieu." 

Ray turns to leave. The leftenant looks at me and shakes his head slowly.
I follow Ray out of the office, closing the door behind me. 

"You want a ride to the Consulate?" Ray asks. I walk alongside him through
the bullpen. 

"Ray, if you don't mind, I'd like to go home with you," I say. 

He stops and looks at me. "What about the Ice Queen?"  

"She's out of town for the remainder of the day."  

"Okay, Frase. Let's go home." 

******************** 

Ray unlocks the door to his apartment and Dief and I follow him inside. He
hasn't spoken a word since we left the precinct. He tosses his keys on the
breakfast bar, shrugs off his jacket and sinks down into the couch. He
leans back, resting his head on the back of the couch, his eyes closed. I
walk over and sit down beside him. 

"I wish you would've told me, Ray," I say. 

He opens his eyes and turns his head to face me while still resting it on
the back of the couch. "I couldn't talk about it, Frase. Plus, you
couldn't 've helped me anyway." 

"If we discuss it now...it might help you see things more clearly," I say.


"I see things fine, Fraser. Huey told you the whole fucking story...we
don't have to talk about it anymore." He leans in towards me and grabs my
arm, pulling me closer to him, kissing me, softly at first, and then more
urgently. 

I pull away. "Ray, we need to talk, we can't do this now," I protest. 

He puts his lips to mine again. "I wanna do this now," he murmurs into my
mouth, and he pushes his tongue inside, holding onto either side of my
head with his hands. 

I break away, grasping his hands and pulling them away. "Ray, stop this.
We have to work this out. You're under a terrible misconception....." 

He yanks his hands from my grasp. "No misconception, Fraser. If it wasn't
for me, that little kid would still be alive. It's almost like I dropped
him out that window myself." His eyes fill with tears. He slumps back into
the couch and closes his eyes. 

"Ray, the father didn't drop the child, he tossed him...." 

"Don't, Fraser, please....." He's crying now and I don't know how to help
him. 

"Okay, Ray." I move closer to him and take his hand in mine. He
immediately sits up and leans into me, wrapping his arms around my neck,
burying his face into my throat, sobbing. 

I hold onto him, rubbing his back, allowing him to cry.  

After about ten minutes, his crying dissolves into sniffles and small
gasps for air, his chest heaving. He sits upright, keeping his head down,
wiping his eyes with his hands. I produce a handkerchief for him which he
readily accepts, drying his eyes and blowing his nose. 

While he recovers, I get up and walk to the kitchen to get him a glass of
water along with a damp dish cloth for his face. Sitting down next to him,
I hand him the dish cloth and he wipes his face with it, handing it back
to me. I give him the glass of water, and he drinks half of it, placing
the glass down on the coffee table. 

"Thanks, Frase," he says quietly. He hasn't looked at me since he stopped
crying, so I place my hand under his chin and lift his head until our eyes
meet. It breaks my heart to see him like this...I don't know how to help
him, but I can try. 

"Ray, you can't do this to yourself," I say. 

"Can't help it, Frase," he says. 

I remove my hand from his chin and his head drops down again.  

"After everyone's told you what they saw, why do you insist on blaming
yourself?" I ask. 

He shakes his head. "Frase, I know you're just trying to help me, but I
really can't talk about this," he says, his voice trembling. 

"Okay, we won't talk about it then." I put my arms around him and pull him
towards me while leaning back into the couch. He rests his head on my
chest and after a few minutes he's asleep. I hold him tightly to me and
close my eyes. 

******************** 

Ray's cell phone is ringing and I realize the shrill sound is waking me
up. The room is dark except for the light coming in from under the door of
the apartment. I reach over and grab Ray's jacket, retrieving the cell
phone from his pocket, answering it. 

"Hello, Constable," Leftenant Welsh's voice says. "How is he?" 

I glance down and note that Ray is sound asleep, his head still resting on
my chest. 

"Sleeping at the moment, but I wouldn't say he was all right," I reply. 

"Well, I have some news that may help," he says. "We located the child's
mother, such as she is, and brought her in. She said she was sharing
custody of the child with her husband. Apparently, this guy has threatened
to kill his son before. Why she let him share custody is a mystery.
Anyway, she gave us some information on him that could put him away for a
long time. So we confronted him with it, and suddenly he decided to come
clean about a few things. The guy's so stupid, he didn't realize he wasn't
gonna see anything but prison walls for the next hundred years as it was.
He said he tossed the kid to save his own neck, trying to distract Ray so
he could get away. I can't believe he placed so little value on his own
son's life. Stupid asshole was so high on crack, he said he thought the
kid wouldn't die from a two story fall. He said he blamed Ray to protect
his own skinny neck. So, we have his entire confession in writing. He also
told us that Ray didn't mess up his face...said he fell down the stairs. I
know that's a crock but IA's buying it. So, tell Ray I'm coming by later
to drop off his shield and his weapons, and I'm bringing a copy of the
confession. Do you think that'll help?" 

"I hope so, Leftenant. I appreciate your calling," I say. 

"Yeah, sure. See you later."  

As I hang up the phone Ray begins to stir. He sits up rubbing his eyes and
in the darkened room he looks like a child. I can't help smiling at him. I
do love him so much.  

"Hey, Frase....why's it so dark in here? We get a power failure?" he asks.
 

"No. Apparently, we both fell asleep." I lean over and switch on the lamp
by the couch. 

"Were you just talking to me or was I dreaming that?" he asks, leaning
over and retrieving the glass of water from the coffee table, drinking it
down. 

"Leftenant Welsh called...I was talking to him on the cell phone." 

"Oh." He places the glass on the coffee table and leans back into the
couch. A moment later he looks up at me. 

"So, what'd he say?" 

I take a deep breath and proceed to tell Ray everything the leftenant just
told me, how they had located the child's mother and how the father had
finally confessed to his deadly, willful act against his own son. And the
fact that he was so high on crack, he thought the fall would not kill the
child. I tell him how the father placed the blame on Ray in an act of
desperation.  

"You mean, he admitted to....to doing that to his own kid on purpose?" Ray
asks, his face contorted in horror. 

"Yes, Ray." I watch his expression change from one of self-recrimination
to anger and then abject sadness. 

"That sonovabitch. He deserves to rot in hell," he says.  

We're both silent for a few minutes. 

"What about the assault charges against me?" he asks. 

"Well, apparently, he claims to have received those bruises falling down
the stairs...not from you. I think Leftenant Welsh had something to do
with that." 

"Fraser, I......." 

"You need to let it go, Ray. It's over." He closes his eyes and rests his
head on the back of the couch again. 

"Ray, look at me and tell me you that understand this wasn't your fault,"
I say. 

He opens his eyes and looks up at me. "I know, Frase...it's just not fair
for that little kid." 

"That is a tragedy, Ray. But you can't blame yourself for the sins of his
father." 

"Yeah, I know. He admits he did it so he'll pay for his own crimes," he
says sadly. 

Looking into my eyes, he reaches out and wraps his hand behind my neck
gently pulling me towards him. I willingly lean in, parting my lips and we
kiss softly, lightly.  

"I love you, Frase," he murmurs into my mouth. 

"I love you," I say, deepening the kiss, wanting him desperately.  

I pull his t-shirt up and he lifts his arms allowing me to easily remove
it over his head. I loosen his jeans while he works on my Sam Browne and
tunic. 

"Frase, you got a manual for getting this stuff off?" he asks. 

I look up at him and he's smiling, his eyes sparkling...he's so beautiful,
sensual. I leave him to remove his jeans and boots while I tend to my
uniform, not taking my eyes from him. He is naked now and he lies back on
the couch gazing up at me...I see longing in his eyes and I can't shed my
clothing fast enough. I see he is partially aroused and he reaches down to
stroke himself while he watches me undress. I feel myself growing harder.
I finally remove all my clothes and almost fall on top of him, our mouths
colliding, tongues dueling. He places his arms across my back, pulling me
closer...I can never get close enough. He wraps his legs around my waist
and gently rocks against me. I think about the previous night, how he
needed me to hurt him...how I did hurt him, and I reflexively soften my
kisses, my touch becoming gentle. I attempt to sit up and he obligingly
unwraps his legs from around my waist.	

"Something wrong, Frase?" he asks, concern showing on his face. 

"No, Ray, everything's fine," I say taking his hand.  

He sits up and looks at me with questioning eyes. I lie back on the couch
resting my head on a pillow, pulling him over my body so he is sitting on
my chest, straddling me. Our eyes meet and the desire in his face causes
me to gasp audibly. I place my hands on his hips and pull him towards
me...his penis slides between my parted lips.  

"Frase, oh god...." 

I urge him to thrust into my mouth...I want him to feel in control of his
own gratification. He complies, achieving pleasure with every thrust but
still attentive to my comfort. I look up at him...his eyes are
closed...the rapture evident on his face. I am aroused by the sight of
him. He leans forward slightly, his arms resting on the arm of the couch
above my head. He drops his head, eyes still closed, his moans growing
louder. I can see and feel that he is close...as am I. Watching him attain
pleasure has carried me to the edge. I take hold of his hips to still his
movements, and he readily abides. Drawing my head back so that my mouth is
at the tip of his penis, I circle my tongue around the head, tasting
him..... 

"Fraser, Fraser...oh fuck...." 

He is panting, his body glistening from sweat. I slide my mouth down the
entire length of his erection, sucking, tasting...my teeth slightly
scraping his velvety skin.  

He is coming now...his entire body convulsing, intermittent outcries
emanating through his parted lips. I drink all of him in as I watch his
face during his intense release...the pure bliss evident in his
expression. 

He shifts back on my chest and opens his eyes looking down at me. He is
still panting, but manages a smile as he slides down my body. Leaning over
he kisses me gently, caressing my lips with his tongue. 

"God, Frase, that was amazing," he whispers. 

He continues to slide down until his body is covering mine completely. His
smile dissolves and is replaced by a look of confusion. Lifting himself
up, he peers down between our bodies, then lowers himself back on top of
me, his eyes wide with amazement. 

"Um, Frase, you came?" he asks. 

"Yes, Ray...you effect quite a stimulating picture when you're aroused," I
say, stroking his arm with my fingers. 

"You mean, you came from just watching me?"  

"Apparently so." 

"Wow." 

"Indeed." 

He rests his head on my chest and I hold him tightly to me. 

There's a knock at the door. Ray's head snaps up. 

"Who the hell is that?" he asks glancing at me. 

"Oh dear." 

"What?" 

"I'm afraid I forgot that Leftenant Welsh said he'd be coming by this
evening," I say. 

"Shit, Fraser." He quickly jumps up, retrieving his scattered clothes from
the floor, throwing them on hurriedly.	

I grab my clothes and retreat into the bedroom to make myself presentable
for company. 

Five minutes later I come back into the living room to find Ray and
Leftenant Welsh talking. Ray has cleverly steered his guest towards the
breakfast bar rather than the couch, which, at the moment, is in a state
of disarray from our earlier...activities. I take note of Ray's shield and
both his guns lying on the kitchen counter, along with a file folder. 

"Ah, Constable, nice of you to join us," the leftenant says. 

"Uh, yes sir, I was just, um....I was....." 

"He was in the can." Ray rescues me...ostensibly. I nod forcing a smile to
my face. 

"You sure you're all right, Kowalski?" He directs concerned eyes towards
Ray. 

"Yeah, I'm good, Lieu, thanks," Ray says. 

"Okay, then. Listen, all the papers in that file are copies, so make sure
you burn them when you're done," he says to both of us. 

"Yes sir," I respond. 

"Well, I can't stay...have plans for the evening," he says as he stands
and walks towards the door. Apparently he notices Dief lying by the couch,
and takes a detour in that direction. Ray and I look at each other and
wince. The leftenant reaches Dief and leans over to pet him, looking up to
note the condition of the couch. Eyeing it for a moment, he finishes
petting Dief and stands upright, turning to leave. 

We follow him to the door. 

"Good-night, gentlemen," he says. "Have fun." 

Ray and I again exchange glances. 

The leftenant lets himself out, Ray closing the door behind him. 

"Um, Fraser, you think he knows?" he asks, shooting a glance over towards
the couch. 

"I couldn't say, Ray." 

"Oh jeez." 

He walks over to the breakfast bar and picks up the file folder, bringing
it over to the kitchen table. Switching on the kitchen light, he sits down
at the table and opens the file.  

"Why don't I prepare some dinner?" I say. 

He glances up from the file. "Yeah, sure, Frase." His attention is drawn
back to the folder in front of him. "No onions," he orders, his eyes still
on the file. 

I smile and go about gathering the necessities for cooking dinner. 

About ten minutes later, I notice him close the folder, placing his elbows
on the table and resting his chin on one hand. He is gazing into the air,
his eyes unfocused. I feel a surge of love for him and I make a vow to
myself to always protect him. 

"You can't, ya know," he says. His eyes are now centered on me. 

"Can't what?" I ask. 

"Protect me all the time," he says. 

I stare at him, my eyes blinking. "What...how did you know....." 

"Know what?" he asks, eyeing me questioningly. 

"Uh...nothing, never mind," I say. And I resume the dinner preparations. 

I am slicing the vegetables when I sense Ray watching me. I raise my head
and look over to him. 

"After dinner," I say. 

"After dinner what?" he asks, his eyes wide with wonder. 

I smile seductively at him.  

Now he stares at me, his eyes blinking. "Frase, how'd you know what....." 

Our eyes meet and we exchange meaningful glances. 

"Um, nothing...never mind," he says. 

And I resume slicing the vegetables. 

The End