Goodbye Author's disclaimer: Although the story is mine, it is a work of fiction based on the character of Due South. All Characters portrayed here belong to Alliance. Please do not print/copy/download or send any part of this story to anyone else, other than for your personal enjoyment. Thank you. Minor spoliers for COTW. Rated PG-13 for some language. Death Story/Angst/Drama   By:Amethyst SAY GOOD NIGHT           "Stanley Raymond Kowalski." The judge, a foreboding older man with graying hair and a no nonsense stare announced. "You are here by sentenced to death by lethal injection to be carried out immediately."           Cries of distress raised simultaneously throughout the courtroom mixed with shouts of joy as an officer secured Ray's wrists with handcuffs. Francesca Vecchio was sobbing openly, Mrs. Kowalski had to be restrained from launching herself at her son hysterically and Constable Benton Fraser met Ray's frightened gaze from his place behind Ray's lawyer.          "Fraser!" he screamed as they started to pull him out of the courtroom and he struggled for one final look at the people he loved.          "Ray!" The Mountie returned trying to fight his way past the reporters, lawyers and other security separating them, He couldn't believe the judge had convicted his best friend and condemned him to death on such circumstantial evidence with no hope for an appeal.          "Fraasseer!" Ray called out again as they ushered him toward the side door that would take him back to the prison. "Take care of my folks!"          "I promise, Ray." Fraser assured his voice breaking as he watched his friend disappear through the door. "I promise."          Less than two hours later, Fraser stared through the witness window, with the twelve jurors and Lieutenant Welsh as Ray was strapped to the examination table below. The detective glanced up and met Fraser's gaze with a fearful and haunted look, clinging to the deep blue eyes stared back. Ray mouthed something and Fraser had to blink several times to dispel the rush of tears that threatened to flood his eyes. He placed a shaking hand wishing he could reach his friend below, knowing it would be the last time he would ever speak to his partner.          "I love you too, Ray." He whispered hoarsely and he knew Ray had understood the words his lips had formed. The blonde's gaze continued to hold on to Fraser's he wanted the last face he saw to be of his best friend before he...He felt a sharp prick at his arm and he squeezed his eyes shut as the toxic liquid started to run through his veins. Dear God! He didn't mean to hurt her. He didn't want to die, please don't let him die...FRASER!          "No!" Ray bolted up in his bed in a state of panic and it was a few terrifying moments before he realized that he had been dreaming again. His T-shirt and boxers were soaked with sweat; most of his sheets and coverings were twisted around him or hanging almost to the floor. He shakily checked his arms for puncture wounds then sighed in relief when he found none.          He threw the covers back and glanced at his clock, just a few minutes after one, he'd only been asleep for a couple of hours. He made his way to the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face, then stared at his refection in the mirror. He looked like crap, there were heavy dark circles under his eyes, his face was pale and drawn and he knew he would get no further sleep tonight without help. He hadn't been able to sleep hardly at all lately, his headaches and the accompanying nausea made it difficult for him to get through the night.          He opened his medicine cabinet and pulled out the bottle of sleeping pills that he had purchased about a week before. He hated taking them, he suspected he was becoming addicted to them, but between the nightmares and the over exhaustion of his physical condition it was impossible to sleep with out the little yellow pills. He couldn't go to work looking and feeling the way he did, yet the pills made him groggy when he finally did wake up and it took him until mid after noon before he could reserve any real energy. However, they did allow him to sleep without dreaming and right now he needed that more than he needed energy.         He poured a couple out into his palm and swallowed them with some water from the tap, then he placed the bottle back in the cabinet and returned to his bed. He changed out of his sweaty clothes, arranged the covers a little better around the mattress and then climbed inside.       He couldn't imagine why the premise of his nightmares had taken such a foreboding turn, he hadn't had such night terrors since Beth Botrell was almost executed and his conscience had forbidden him to get through the night without dreaming about it.  These new nightmares were twice as volatile, twice as real and Ray was beginning to think he was loosing his mind. Finally the pills began to take effect and he felt his eyelids droop. Peace at last his mind sighed.           Ray pulled off his shoulder holster and dropped it on the counter, having just started toward the fridge when another terrible wave of nausea hit him. He barely made it to the bathroom in time before he was forced to empty the contents of his stomach for the third time that day. Not that there was much left to throw up, but apparently the demon virus had found something because he was racked with the painful retching moments later.       Finally he managed to rise shakily to his feet and lean weakly against the sink to splash more water on his flushed face. He rinsed his mouth and tried not to stare at the awful sight of his haggard reflection. God he felt like utter crap! He had hoped it was just the flu or some kind of stomach virus, but after three weeks of fighting the symptoms it only seemed to be getting worse instead of better. He knew it was time to go and see a doctor about it but his fear of hospitals overrode his good sense, as it often did concerning his health.       He grinned, he was starting to sound like Fraser now, Heaven help him! He'd been avoiding going out with Fraser after work, because he was always exhausted from trying to hide his condition from the astute Mountie all day long. He felt bad for avoiding his partner, but he usually just felt like laying down somewhere, whether it was the bed, sofa, or floor if he could get no further, and just rest. Rarely did he ever sleep; it was just the need to have his body stop moving and the room to stop spinning. If he turned off the lights and put on a soothing CD, like Ella Fitzgerald or Sarah McLachlan really low so you could barely hear it, his headaches started to fade.         He tiredly made his way back toward the living room and moved toward the desk by the windows. He searched through a left-hand drawer, where he usually tossed extra pens, notepapers, paperclips and assorted business cards he received on the job from time to time. He remembered a lady doctor that had come in to report a gunshot victim she had treated earlier that day, a few weeks back. Ray had found her to be nice enough, very pretty and not to professional that she couldn't laugh at his lame jokes. However there had been a large diamond on her left hand that kept Ray from asking her out as he was prone to do with most women he met, there were some lines that he would not cross and this woman was obviously taken.       He finally found the card she had given him, in case he had any further questions to ask her and quickly dialed the number to her office. He asked to speak to Dr. Brook, giving his name and where he worked for reference, then pulled out the desk chair to settle into before his weakness got the better of him and he fell on the floor.       "Hello, this is Dr. Brook." A soft feminine voice greeted moments later. "How may I help you Detective Vecchio?"       "Um...hi ya Doc." Ray returned uneasily. "I...er...I don't know if you remember me or not but..."       "Of course I remember you, detective." She assured warmly. "I came to see you about a month ago wasn't it? Did you have some questions about the case?"       "Ah...yah." Ray confirmed. "Um...I mean, no, not...no questions about the case. I was wonderin'...well, I've been havin' some medical problems lately and I was... It's probably just the flu but...it's been hittin' me pretty hard and..um...well wonderin' if..."       "Will tomorrow morning be good for you, Detective?" she inquired gently, letting him off the hook and he smiled relieved.       "Yah, dat would be great, greatness, really." He agreed. "Thanks. I'm not...um...real good with hospitals and stuff."       "Perfectly all right, Detective." She allowed. "I will see you tomorrow around...oh....say nine O'clock good?"       "Dat's...sure, dat's fine, really. Thanks Doc." Each party rung off and Ray for some reason felt a little better. He was a little anxious about going but Dr. Brook seemed nice enough that she would probably get him to calm down for the visit.       He rose and moved across the room to hit the play on his stereo, sighing as the soothing sounds of Louis Armstrong floated lightly around him. It was still daylight out, so Ray pulled his blinds and darkened the room in a soft shadow. He lay back on his sofa and tried to think of anything but the pain and discomfort he was feeling. Absently he wished Stella was here with him, but the thought turned to regret and finally dissipated as they were prone to do. His ex-wife was no longer a comfort to him, but he missed her still.       He was startled when he heard a knock at his door and inanely he wondered if it might be the woman that he treasured. However when he slowly sat up and moved to greet his visitor he was only mildly disappointed to find a dark haired, blue-eyed Mountie smiling at him, instead of the love of his life.  Fraser had changed into dark jeans and a gray and red over shirt with starched collar. He wore his brown bomber jacket and of course the infamous Stetson was perched on his head. He held up a bag that offered the enticing aroma of Chinese food as Diefenbaker pranced inside and hopped up on the sofa Ray had just vacated.       "Hello Ray." Fraser greeted kindly then cast the wolf a scolding look. "Diefenbaker! Ray has not even invited us in yet." Ray smiled a little and moved aside for his friend to enter the apartment.       "S'kay Frase." He assured as the Mountie stepped inside and Ray closed the door. "Yer both welcome here any time, me casa is yer casa."       "Thank you kindly, Ray." Fraser returned politely, not bothering to correct his friend's appalling language skills. "I thought you might be hungry. I know I have been busy with the consulate lately and we have had not had much time together outside of work, I do hope we are not intruding but we brought Chinese, your favorite dishes."       "Sure, Fraser." Ray agreed reluctantly, his stomach revolting at the mere mention of food at this point. "Knock yerself out."       Fraser set the bag on the counter and frowned at his friend. He had noticed Ray's subtle decline in health and was hoping that the detective would either seek medical advice or at least confide in Fraser the problem. Ray thought he was hiding his condition but the Mountie had been strictly aware of the number of times Ray had spent in the precinct bathroom vomiting, or the suddenly dull dilation of those steal gray eyes when the detective was experiencing a terrible headache. Fraser had pretended to be busy on consulate business as often as he could to keep Ray from feeling guilty of not wanting or being up to his company, but the time had come for the truth to be said and Fraser meant to coerce Ray to see a doctor.       "Are you feeling up to eating, Ray?" he asked as he started to unload the bag and watched his friend wander back to the sofa. Fraser watched Ray shoo the wolf down, lay back, and then allow Diefenbaker back up to lay nestled against him. Fraser walked over and stared down at the animal resting his forepaws and head on the detective's chest, while Ray casually scratched his ears. "You spoil him, Ray."       "Got no one else to spoil, Frase." Ray shrugged sadly and Fraser watched Diefenbaker inch a little closer to the object of his affection defiantly.       The Mountie crouched down next to his friend, his eyes missing nothing as he noted the pallor and gauntness in Ray's face. The blond had lost weight, something he couldn't afford to do and he could see from the pain registered in the pale blue eyes that another headache had hit. He couldn't resist reaching a hand up and placing it against Ray's forehead, which was entirely too warm for Fraser's liking.       "You've got a fever, Ray." He stated quietly as Ray's eyes drifted shut.       "Just got the flu Frase." He dismissed tiredly. "Don't mother me."       "You've had the flu," Fraser reminded pointedly. "For almost a month now, Ray." Ray's eyes flickered open and he stared with guilty surprise at his partner, then closed his eyes again, making no comment, but now he understood that Fraser hadn't been fooled for a moment. "Don't you think it is time to go and see a doctor, Ray?" Ray placed his arm over his eyes.       "I'm just tired, Fraser." He defended obstinately. "I'm sure I'll be fine in another day or so."       "Ray." No answer. "Ray? Ray? Ray!" Ray's arm lowered and he opened his eyes to glare at the Mountie.       "Shouting is not helping da problem, Fraser." He informed coolly and Fraser didn't bother to point out that he had barely raised his voice. No doubt the detective's headache was amplifying the sound around him.       "What other symptoms have you been experiencing, Ray." Fraser demanded.       "Flue like symptoms, Benton Buddy." Ray dismissed.       "Ray," Fraser warned. "Flu-like symptoms account for over sixty five of all known medical ailments, it may be more serious than a common virus. Now what have you been experiencing, and don't lie to me Ray I can see right through you when you lie."       Ray sniffed and turned his head away in aggravation. That was the problem, the Mountie could read him like a book and it astounded Ray how well Fraser knew him. No one seemed to have gotten inside his head the way Fraser had over the few months they had worked together, not even Stella knew him this well. He smiled slightly, of course Stella knew him in other ways, that Fraser would never know him, at least not if Ray had anything to say about it.       "I'll go have a check up tomorrow, okay?" he offered, wishing the Mountie would shut up.       "So you are admitting you are ill, then?" Fraser pressed and Ray angrily sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his head, as Fraser rose swiftly to his feet to compensate for his partner's sudden movement.       "Yeah, I'm sick." He defied. "So what? Everybody gets sick Fraser, it's part of life."       "Why didn't you tell me you were not feeling well, Ray." Fraser continued obviously hurt by his friend's intentional deception. "I could have helped I could have..."       "What, Fraser?" Ray demanded bolting to his feet with the same swiftness as his rising temper. "Wiped my runny nose, tucked me into bed, fed me hot soup and aspirin?"       "Well...yes I would have been happy to..."       "I am not a kid damnit!" Ray snapped. "I can take care of myself and..." His words were cut off as a piercing, agonizing pain shot through his cranium and caused his knees to buckle in protest as the accompanying nausea made his stomach drop warningly. "Christ!"           Fraser caught him and settled him back on the sofa, gently placing Ray's head between his knees to push back the dizziness he was no doubt experiencing. Fraser had watched the detective's pupils become almost nonexistent when the pain had hit and it had frightened him terribly. He could only imagine the agony Ray was in.       "Are you going to be sick, Ray?' he inquired softly, allowing his partner to keep hold of his hands for support. Ray slowly shook his head; unable to speak, his grip tightening on Fraser's at what the effort at had caused him. "What can I do, Ray? Do you need some water, aspirin?" he smiled slightly when Ray had managed to raise his gaze to meet Fraser's. "Your mother perhaps?"       "Who...who needs her when I got you, buddy?" he managed weakly. "S..sorry Frase. Don't mean ta get on ya..."       "Perfectly alright, Ray." Fraser assured quickly. "Some water perhaps?"       "Please." Ray agreed and Fraser rose and moved to the kitchen to fetch it and a couple of aspirin from the bottle on the counter. He helped Ray swallow both, then shooed Diefenbaker off the sofa and helped the detective lay back against the cushions.       "Ray?" he began quietly as he watched the detective's eyes drift shut.       "Hmm?"       "Please go to a doctor tomorrow."       "I will." Ray promised defeated. "I promise, already made the appointment and everything."       "May I accompany you, then?" Fraser insisted and Ray opened his eyes again.       "Fraser, I'm a big boy." He reminded. "Yer not my Mum or my wife," he smirked. "Not dat Stella ever accompanied me anywhere that wasn't important to her career, but ya know what I mean. Ya don't gotta play nursemaid to me."       "I am aware that I am neither of those, Ray." Fraser assured. "But I am your partner and your friend." He frowned. "I worry about you, Ray." Ray met the Mounties's gaze and offered him a crooked smile, despite the gratitude that was shining in his eyes. Fraser smiled, seeing that such simple words had touched the detective profoundly, as they always seemed to whenever Fraser spoke of their friendship. It was as though Ray could not believe someone would truly care for him as much as Fraser claimed to.       "Dat hard to say, Fraser?" Ray finally smirked and Fraser's own smile widened.       "Not in the least Ray." He replied without hesitation as both men continued to convey with their eyes what they found difficult to admit aloud.       Diefenbaker finally interrupted their mutual silence with a whining complaint for more affection, as he forced his way between Ray and Fraser. Ray laughed and scratched the wolf's ears affectionately as Fraser forced his twitching lips to pull down into a frown as he offered them both a fondly disapproving glare.       "Ray?" he finally asked.       "Yeah?"       "May I accompany you to the doctor tomorrow?" Fraser reminded and Ray sighed.       "Like I could keep you away." he replied wearily. "Ya'd just follow me. Okay, you can come."       "Thank you kindly, Ray."          Ray slid the GTO into its familiar spot outside his apartment building and switched off the engine. For a long moment he just sat there in the darkness and stared out his windshield, not really seeing anything. He was feeling better the past few days, despite the number of tests Dr. Brook had requested he participate in since their first appointment. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the results, which unfortunately would not be for the next day or two. Being the impatient sort of man that Ray was, he tried to involve himself in as much work and other activities as he could to keep from thinking about it.      Fraser had accompanied him to the initial office consultation, but Ray had not told him of his returning visits for tests. Luckily, he seemed to immediately trust Sehra Brook, though he still had moments of panic at the hospitals he had to frequent for the actual testing but he thought he did rather well. More then once however he considered calling Fraser to come with him, especially once he was there, but he swallowed his fear and resisted, not wanting to worry the Mountie more.      He sighed reached into the passenger seat where his partner usually sat to grab some files he had taken home to look through, then climbed out of the car and entered his apartment building. He climbed the stairs to his floor, he didn't much care for elevators, they made him feel too boxed in, though he could take them as needed without too much hassle, and stopped just outside the stairwell exit. He noticed his landlady was knocking on his apartment door as he approached.      "There you are!" she remarked as she turned toward him, wringing her hands anxiously.      "What can I do for you Mrs. Pierce?" he inquired, surprised that she was asking him help on anything, she usually respected his loner status, as long as he paid his rent. Fraser once said she was very protective of the detective's privacy.      "My niece is visiting with me for a few weeks and there's been...well a sort of accident and..."      "Is she hurt?" Ray asked automatically concerned. "Have you called for an ambulance?"      "Oh, no no." she denied quickly. "She just, well she tripped and hurt her foot and she's much taller than I am and I can't lift her myself to get her to our apartment."      "Where is she?" Ray asked.      "In the laundry room, she was helping me you see and..." Ray was moving past her to open his door, where he quickly deposited the files on the counter closest, before closing and locking his apartment again.      "Show me." He instructed and she clapped her hands to her chest gratefully as they headed down the stairs. She was gushing about having to bother him.      "I hate to bother you I know how you like your privacy but I just didn't know who else to ask and you're so young and strong I thought you would be the best option."      "No problem." Ray assured as they entered the laundry room on the lowest level of the complex.      "Storm hates hospitals and I think she may have just twisted it but I can't tell for sure and I was afraid to let her walk on it."       Mrs. Pierce continued to babble as Ray caught sight of the pretty brunette in denim jeans and a Bulls T-shirt perched sheepishly on one of the dryers. She had a distinctive Native look about her, with smooth dark skin, high forehead and cheekbones, a long slender nose and dark voluminous eyes. She sort of reminded Ray of Cher, before the singer had all the surgery, and she was at least as tall as he, perhaps five eight or nine if not taller, Ray could tell that by the long length of her legs. Her raven colored hair fell in a long braid almost to her waist.      "Honey this is detective Vecchio and he's going to help you upstairs." Mrs. Pierce continued.      "Hiya." Storm greeted him sheepishly as Ray knelt before her to examine her ankle. He wasn't a doctor, but he'd had enough broken and sprained bones to know when it was something that required a trip to the hospital. Her slender feet were bare, surprisingly small for her size, and he glanced at her for permission before carefully cradling her foot and pushing her pant leg up so he could view her ankle, which was already starting to swell. He touched it slightly to check for a break and she winced.      "Looks like a bad sprain." he commented before slowly releasing her foot so he wouldn't jar it, then straightening to his full height. "Wrap yer arms around my neck."     Storm did so, blushing bright red in embarrassment, which only made her skin look darker and more enticing, wincing when something hard dug into her ribs as he started to pull her into his arms. Ray grinned sheepishly and stepped back for a minute, removing the gun that he had sheathed under his jacket, sliding out the clip and pocketing it, he then handing the weapon to Mrs. Pierce.      "Can you carry that fer me?" he requested once it was empty and the older woman took it without batting an eyelash.      "Of course." she assured as Ray pulled Storm into his arms for a second time.      "Okay?" he asked her and she nodded, trying not to think how absolutely wonderful he smelled or how good it felt being carried against him as the three headed back up the two floors to the Landlady's apartment. Mrs. Pierce hurried ahead and opened her door so Ray could enter. He asked if there was a specific place the older lady preferred her niece and the sofa was suggested, so that was where Ray gently deposited her.      "Thanks." She murmured as her aunt handed Ray back his gun then carefully propped Storm's swollen ankle up on a pillow. She watched the easy way the detective reloaded the weapon and placed it back in the holster under his jacket.      "Put some ice on it." He suggested calmly. "If da swelling gets worse in da next day or so, ya probably should go have it x-rayed."      "Thank you so much, detective." Mrs. Pierce offered kindly, noticing the way her niece was watching the blond. "How is your nice Constable doing?"      "He's in Canada fer a few days." Ray informed her as he moved back toward the door. "Some kinda convention wit his superior."      "Won't you stay for supper?' she encouraged following him. "We have plenty and...."      "No, thanks anyway." He refused gently. "I've got some work ta get done." He glanced over at Storm and offered her a sweet smile that made her heart turn over in her chest. "You take care now."      "I will," she promised "Thank you again." He nodded and went out. Storm turned to her aunt with a look of disbelief. "Oh Auntie, I think I'm in love." Mrs. Pierce chuckled and went to check on their dinner.        Ray sat in the comfortable leather chair of Dr. Brook's office as long as he could before finally rising and starting to pace, glancing at his watch impatiently. He wanted her to hurry up and get her as much as he wanted her to stay away, the idea of wanting to know the results of his tests was as strong as the fear of not wanting to know. He had been feeling better, so he was hoping it was good news, but damn it was driving him crazy this waiting! He glanced at his watch again and ran his hand through his hair, wishing one way or the other the doctor would show up before this waiting drove him crazy!          He was startled when the door opened and the object of his thoughts walked inside, closing the door behind her. She had a wonderful bedside manner and Ray had liked her instantly, she had a way of putting him at ease and even now, despite his frazzled nerves, he couldn't help but return the warm smile she directed at him.         "Hiya Doc." He greeted as she moved toward the sofa at the far wall, rather than behind her desk as she usually did. She indicated he follow.          "Hello, Ray." She returned. "Let's sit over here where we'll be more comfortable." Ray couldn't help but joke nervously as they settled beside one another.          "Oh oh, yer tryin' ta put me at ease, dat can't be good." She tried to smile at his comment but he noticed it didn't reach her usually warm emerald eyes. "So what's the verdict? Am I gonna live, Doc?" When she failed again to respond his good humor vanished. "Give it to me straight, honey, I can take it. Nothing can be worse than what I've been imagining." He placed his hand over hers and her eyes lowered to their entwined fingers.          "I didn't mean to keep you waiting, Ray." She stated quietly, her eyes rising to meet his. "I wanted to be sure."          Damn why couldn't she remain professionally distant with this sweet man before her as she was forced to with others? There was just something about him that she couldn't help be drawn into his warmth and affection. He had been so scared when he had come to see her originally, even with his tall, good looking partner beside him she sensed his trepidation. She had tried to put him ease as best she could, knowing how hard it was for him to have gotten this far. Now that she knew it was that much harder to confront him with the news she would be delivering.          "What's up, Doc." He encouraged, now he was trying to put her at ease and she couldn't help but allow the small smile that tugged at her lips to the surface, receiving a bright grin from him.          "There is a tumor, about the size of a half dollar on the frontal lobe of your brain." She informed slowly, watching the shock register in his eyes, replaced by an uncertain fear. " It's known as a Posterior Fossa Tumor and it is common that you would not experience side symptoms of the tumor until it had already grown quite large, so you would have no way of knowing it was there unless it was discovered in a general check up. It's possible that if we operate immediately we might be able to remove part of it, but..."          "Part?" Ray repeated dazed.          "The location of the tumor is too sensitive to remove it completely," she explained. "There is also no guarantee that it will not grow back in just a short time, forcing another Craniotomy, but we can give you radiation therapy to help kill off what is left of the tumor itself and the infecting cells around it." Ray paled and she felt his withdrawal, so she tightened her grip on his fingers, not wanting him to crawl inside himself as she had seen so many of her patients do when faced with their own mortality.          "If you don't operate?" he murmured.          "If we don't operate then it will eventually kill you, Ray." She stated and braced herself for the explosion to come. Many people dealt with a possible death in different ways, usually they experienced a wave of changing emotions, rage, fear, denial, hope, then finally defeat as they tried to cope with the news.         She suspected Ray, as volatile as the detective seemed at times, would immediately show his anger outright, so she was surprised when he lowered his eyes and shook his head in slow deliberation.          "I...I don't want to die, Doc." He whispered, so painfully quiet that Sehra had to strain to hear him. "If...if you operate how long..." he swallowed. "How long do you think it would take to...um...to get bad again?"          "There's no way of knowing, Ray." She sighed sympathetically. "It could take weeks, or months. If the neurosurgeon can remove the general bulk of it and we give you a heavy dose of focal radiation then it may die off completely and you could live years yet.  Unfortunately Cancer is still very much a large mystery to medical science, there is just no certain way to know for sure. We can study the tumor once it is removed and estimate what we can do to get rid of it, but there are no guarantees." He nodded.           "The operation...will it take long?" he asked. "Will I have a long recovery or...or will I pretty much be able to go back to work afterwards?"           "It really depends, Ray." She replied. "Some people experience a healing period of a few weeks, some claim they feel great just a few days later." He nodded again. "I can give you a play by play of exactly what the surgery will entail if you prefer?           "I...no." Ray shivered. "I don't think I want to know." Sehra nodded, there were a few people who just couldn't handle hearing the gory details and she accepted that.           "But you don't know how long...." He broke off, his jaw clenching and she squeezed his shoulders encouragingly, answering his unfinished question.           "No, but it will give you some time, Ray." She insisted. "Isn't that worth it?"           "Let me think about it?" he asked, turning toward her and she saw the confusion in his shimmering eyes. She inclined her head in agreement.           "Not too long, Ray." She requested quietly and he gave her a curt nod, understanding the longer they waited the harder it would be to operate and give him any chance at all. "Will you tell your family? Fraser?" He shook his head.           "Not...not right away." he explained. "I...I need some time."           "I understand." She agreed.  "Ray?" He met her gaze. "Don't be too brave and try going through this alone, okay, it is better to have your friends and family beside you during a time like this."           "I...I know." He whispered as both people finally gave into what they wanted most and embraced each other.            "Ray?" Francesca called as she approached. "There's some lady askin' fer you down at holding." Ray frowned as he looked up from the file he was reading. He was having a good day today, Fraser had returned from Canada and they would be seeing each other later, and he had finally scheduled the surgery he promised Dr. Brook he would have. He had taken a long hard look at things over the weekend and after throwing a few temper tantrums and crying a lot, he decided he would have to just find a way to deal with the things that were happening to him and live one day at a time.          "What kinda lady?" he asked warily. He sometimes gave his name to the hookers and street people he questioned on occasion, and that was the lot which usually ended up in holding. Francesca shrugged.          "Some old lady that claims she knows you."          "Oh jeeze!" he exclaimed. "It's not my mum is it? Was she picketin' dat market again?"          "It's not yer mother no." Francesca laughed as she returned to her desk and Ray sighed in relief then dropped his file on the desk and headed down stairs.          He waved at the guard as he passed, then handed him his gun as he entered the holding cells of the station. As he suspected it was filled to capacity with streetwalkers, loud mouth junkies, petty thieves and a few of the regular homeless fellows that liked getting arrested just because it got them a free meal and a warm bunk. He spotted the pair on the bench closest to the bars and blinked in shock, then shook his head to clear it as they noticed them.          "Mrs. P, I'm shocked!" he teased as he folded his arms across his chest and gazed at his landlady and her niece. He leaned closer and whispered in a conspiring voice. "Whatcha do, hit some store clerk over da head with a loaf of bread fer chargin' too much?" She giggled and blushed as she moved closer to him and away from the general population of the cell.          "It is all a misunderstanding." She assured quickly. "I told the arresting officer that it was a mistake but he wouldn't listen to me." Her eyes started to tear up and she lowered them ashamed as Storm stepped forward, balanced on crutches and her foot wrapped.          "We were coming out of the doctor's office and Auntie wanted to check out that new antique shop that was just across the street." She stated. "We started to go inside when these two guys ran out, dressed like women and wearing masks on their faces and ran into us."          "How'd ya know dey were men?" Ray inquired.          "The one that hit me was flat chested, muscle bound and smelled like cigars." She retorted and he nodded. "Anyway, they dropped their bag or whatever, I guess they had just robbed the store. They took off just as a cop came around the corner as Auntie was helping me to my feet. He saw the bag next to us and we were immediately arrested."          "We tried to tell him that the real perpetrators had run down the street but he wouldn't listen." Judith Pierce insisted as she sniffed in distress and Ray moved over to retrieve a box of tissues from the desk sergeant and hand a couple to her. "He didn't believe us. He just kept glaring at Storm and muttering something about how her kind was always guilty. Oh, Detective Vecchio, we didn't know what else to do so I told them I knew you."          "Don't you worry Mrs. P." he assured and she found she liked the way he had shortened her name. "Do you remember the name of the officer?"          "Oh...um...I believe it was Reck...rock..."          "Roddner." Storm supplied. "Officer Roddner." Ray nodded his jaw clenching in anger; they'd had trouble with this guy before.          "You hang tight for a few minutes and I'll be right back okay?" he offered and they nodded as he caught sight of a tall black woman in tight spandex clothing. "Cheryl, look after these two fer me, will ya-don't let the other's bother 'em."          "Anything fer you, Ray." She assured moving over to run a long red painted fingernail on the hand he had rested against the bar next to his landlady. "Fer my usual fee." Ray grinned.          "You'll be out in an hour, you know dat." He returned. "Be a Good Samaritan, an I'll bring ya a present when I come back."          "Sure honey." She agreed and the three walked off. Cheryl smiled at them. "Don't worry, he'll set everything to rights, he's good at that."          "Are you and he...friends?" Judith Pierce inquired curious.          "Friends?" she repeated thoughtfully as she lit a cigarette. "I don't know about that, but he's pretty good to me and some of my girlfriends. He pays good money for information and usually tries to keep the heat off us."          "He prefers that you be out on the street?" Storm asked surprised and Cheryl shrugged.          "No, he prefers we be safe, and since this is our...well chosen profession, he tries to do what he can." Her eyes regarded Storm quietly. "He's not like the other cops we deal with, who are either abusive or preachy or trying to get a quick lay with their information. He's a real gentleman to all us girls, never makes us feel like trash the way most do and never condemns us for what we're doing." She took a long drag on her cigarette. "He offers each of us the option of an out if we want to get off the street, he'll help us, but he doesn't push us." Her eyes narrowed on Storm. "And he never uses us, despite the propositions we offer him."          "I remember when I first met Ray." another girl, couldn't have been more than twenty, but her makeup hardened her face to seem older, as she joined the conversation. "I thought he was so slick and cool with that wild hair and flashing steel eyes." She sighed. "And that smile, I could sell his smile on the open market and make a fortune."          "He's not like the other cops, he's more down to earth, relates to the real people of the city a lot better." Agreed Cheryl.          "I offered to do him..." she glanced at Mrs. Pierce. "Um...sorry, I mean I offered my services to him for free. Know what he said?" Storm shook her head as the hooker got a dreamy look on her face. "He said something that precious was worth too much to offer to give away to someone I didn't love and care for." She smiled impishly. "So I offered to charge him, but he just laughed and suggested I put my sharp wit to work for me and become a counselor for kids, you know, reachin' out to them and stuff. No one's ever said I could be more than I was before and it had to be the sweetest refusal I ever had."          "I remember when..." Cheryl began but shut up as she noticed the detective headed down their way again and she winked at Storm. "Where's my treat, sugar? I babysat really good for you." Ray glanced at Storm and Mrs. Pierce.          "She didn't try ta recruit ya did she?" he teased and both women blushed and laughed as they shook their heads. He grinned and waved at the desk sergeant who walked over with the keys. "Com'ahn jailbirds, ya been sprung." Storm and her aunt hurried through gratefully as Ray crooked his finger at Cheryl. "You too gorgeous." The hooker sauntered through and the guard closed the gate as she waved at the others that had to stay behind.          "You're so good to me." Cheryl insisted moving to deliver a big kiss on the detective who neatly dodged her.          "I'm workin' here!" he laughed as she tried for him again and he allowed her to give him a peck on the cheek, then proceeded to wipe off her lipstick with her fingers.          "So am I honey." She assured deliberately. "Always."          "Scat before I change my mind." He growled and she hurried out, knowing she would only get one chance to fly free. He escorted Judith and Storm out past the desk, retrieving his weapon on the way, then guided them upstairs to the bull pen, using the handicap lift due to Storm's injury and Mrs. Pierce's age. He ushered him into one of the interview rooms then asked them to wait for him.          "So this is where he works." Storm commented glancing around as her Aunt settled in the chair beside the desk and storm leaned against it, propping her crutches next to her. A moment later they over heard a heated exchange off in a section of the corridor where they couldn't see. The door opened again and Ray was guiding, rather forcefully, the young rookie that had arrested them into the room, shoving him in a chair.          "Think she can run wit dat on?" Ray barked at him, indicating Storm's bandaged foot. The rookie shook his head, his lips tightened in anger and embarrassment. "Now, once again, what evidence was dere to support arrestin' deese two ladies?"          "They had the bag from the store." Roddner insisted grimly.          "And?"          "A...and they were female, the owner said the suspects were female."          "When did he tell ya dat?"          "Er...well, I...I heard the call come in that it was two women robbing the store and..."          "And when did ya talk to the owner?"          "Uh...after."          "After what?"          "After I arrested the suspects." Roddner supplied as sweat broke put on his brow.          "So ya detained these ladies den went to get da owner to ID them, correct?"          "No...no." Roddner stammered.          "No?" Ray repeated folding his arms across his chest and staring hard at the cop. "No, you didn't detain them or no you didn't have the owner ID them?"          "I...I arrested the suspects." Roddner managed nervously.          "You said dat." Ray stated leaning on the table menacingly and Roddner leaned back warily.          "I...I arrested them and...and put them in my car and...then I went to the owner and asked him w...what was taken."          "Did he give you a description of the suspects?" Ray growled and Roddner shook his head. "Did you ask him for one? Did you show him the two women you had in custody?" Again the man shook his head and Ray's hand slapped hard on the table, making everyone jump. "So ya arrested dem, without cause, without a description and without gettin' a proper ID because they were standin' outside da shop wit a bag?"          "I...I...they were the only women I saw and their kind..." Roddner babbled and realized his mistake as Kowalski's eyes narrowed on him. "I...I mean..."          "Mrs. Pierce." Ray addressed in a low but reasonably professional voice. "Would you  or your niece like to press charges against Officer Roddner fer false arrest?"          "No." Judith returned quietly. "I just want to go home and for all this to be over."          "Yer lucky, Roddner." Ray insisted. "I'd have had yer ass in a sling if it'd been me. Now get da hell outta here." The cop couldn't leave fast enough. Ray offered the ladies a smile, his earlier anger already fading as he escorted them out. "Sorry fer all da trouble."          "You've been wonderful, Detective." Judith commented. "We are so sorry to be such a bother to you."          "No problem." He assured as Francesca walked passed, smiled sweetly at them and slapped a file into Ray's chest.          "Here's yer stupid file." She growled, then smiled sunnily at the women again before moving off.          "Great!" Ray called after her, catching the file before it slipped to the floor. "It only took ya an hour!"          "I was busy!" she sauced back and Ray shook his head as Storm glanced after the smaller woman.          "Is she always like that?" she inquired and Ray shrugged grinning.          "Pretty much." He returned, as a surprising thought entered his head. He would really miss Frannie, he never thought about that before, despite the pain she was to him, he really was very fond of her. He shook his head, time to get back to business. "Well, I gotta get back to work, you two take care now." He had started to move away when Judith caught his arm and he turned back to her.          "Would you allow us to repay your kindness by coming to dinner tonight?" she invited warmly. "I'm making fried chicken."          "Dat's nice of ya to offer." He returned gently. "But I gotta work tonight."          "All night?' she asked concerned, reminding Ray of his own Mother.          "Yah, me and Fraser gotta do some surveillance until about one or two in the morning." Ray replied. "I'll only be home long enough ta change clothes and stuff."          "Oh, that's too bad." Judith frowned and patted his arm. "Perhaps the weekend then, you and your partner can come?"          "I'll have to see, I may be going out of town this weekend." He replied regretfully and the ladies nodded and finally turned to leave.            Ray awoke in the hospital, he felt as though he had been turned inside out, shaken over an old fashioned washing board then rolled back right side in again. He was nauseous, his throat hurt. His head pounded and he was trembling. He followed the IV tube from his arm to the liquid sack above him and blinked rapidly to focus his eyes. He slowly raised his hand to touch the bandage wrapped around his head as his hospital door opened and Dr. Brook entered smiling.          "Morning Sunshine." She greeted as she automatically picked up his wrist between her two fingers and glanced at her watch to time his pulse. "How do you feel?"          "Like crap." Ray muttered, offering her a small grin. "Thanks fer askin'." Sehra laughed and placed his arm back on the bed.          "I've some news that might make you feel better then." She stated watching him glance up at her curiously.          "Dis is a dream and I'm actually lyin' on a beach somewhere with a beautiful half naked girl beside me?" he asked hopefully and she tsked at him smiling.          "Not quite that good, I'm afraid." She laughed and he smiled, despite the pain it caused him. "The surgeons managed to get three quarters of the tumor removed, a very good portion considering its placement and they suspect from their direct inspection of it that it has been growing decidedly slowly, so we may get lucky and the radiation will kill it off all together.          "Dat is good news." Ray sighed and closed his eyes for a minute thankfully. He had accepted that the tumor might eventually kill him, but he had been prepared to hear that his time would be shortened after the surgery and that the cancer killing him could not be mostly removed. He opened his eyes and indicated the bandage. "What about my hair?"          "They only had to shave a small portion." She stated calmly. "It should grow back in no time." She smiled. "You might consider getting a shorter cut, perhaps military style until it grows back, if you are worried about people getting suspicions." He stared at her as though she had just grown a second head.          "Now dat would make people suspicious!" he decided and she laughed again.          "Oh, I don't know." She teased. "I think a crew cut would make you look dashing."          "You don't like my hair?" he protested wounded and she smiled and bent to kiss his cheek affectionately.          "I love your hair." She promised softly. "I'll love it still when it grows back, but I think you'll look just as handsome with it cut." He blushed and grinned.          "Let's not get carried away now." He warned flustered making her giggle again. "When can I go home?"          "Day after tomorrow, if you feel up to it." She decided and he nodded.  "We'll start the radiation treatments next week, the sooner the better. What have you told your partner?"          "Same as everybody else, dat I had a date wit a gorgeous emerald eye goddess and we were goin' away fer a few days of secluded partyin'." It was Sehra's turn to blush and she slapped his arm playfully.          "I guess I'll have to make your stay worth your while then, Hmm?" she offered and Ray reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.          "You already have, Doc." He assured. "You gave me hope." Sehra blinked away her tears and tried to smile, returning his squeeze before releasing his hand and moving away.          "I'll be in to check on you later." She promised. "Would you like me to bring you anything?" Ray shook his head and watched her leave, then settled back against his pillows, his headache lessening finally enough to allow him to go back to sleep.            "It's all yer fault, Fraser!" Ray insisted as they climbed the stairs to the detective's apartment, both of them dripping wet. "It's like yer attracted to water or somethin'. Once every couple a weeks ya gotta pull some fool stunt dat gets us soaked. Like yer tryin' ta make me catch phenomena."          "That's just silly, Ray." Fraser returned as Ray unlocked his apartment door, the Mountie seemed decidedly less sodden than the detective and his red serge uniform still looked practically perfect. Ray couldn't imagine what it was like to walk around wearing wet wool and he shivered as he automatically pulled off his shirt, sock and boots.          "Yer lucky I keep some of yer clothes here, Buddy, cause we ain't got time ta stop at the consulate fer you to change." He stated as he wandered into his room out of sight as Fraser closed the door behind them.          Ray had been in decidedly good spirits the past week or so and it could only be assumed that his impromptu vacation had worked out. Ray had returned his usually chipper and energetic self, sporting a smart looking gray salt and pepper cap that apparently his new lady friend had given him. The detective had been wearing it everyday at the precinct and rarely took it off, so Fraser assumed the woman must be special indeed for her gift to receive such devotion, despite the taunts he received from his co-workers.           Whenever anyone tried to pry some information from his friend about the secret liaison he was decidedly closed mouth, using Fraser's excuse of chivalry to refuse to kiss and tell. When Fraser inquired of his health, Ray continued to remind the Mountie of the dangers of 'Mothering him again' and so Fraser would let it drop. Besides, the detective seemed much healthier than his previous condition so he shouldn't be worried.          However, Fraser could not hide his shock after their recent pursuit had led them in through a car wash and they had both gotten soaked with their suspect. Once the man had been cuffed and escorted to the vehicle, Ray had pulled off his cap for the first time and wiped the clinging moisture from his face and hair; or rather what there was of his hair.  Fraser simply couldn't believe that Ray's exuberantly wild blond spikes had been replaced by a painfully short military style cut, that seemed so close to his scalp you could barely tell where his flesh stopped and his hair began. The only real indication were the tiny rigidly straight spikes that pressed upwards from his head in an orderly stylish cut.  Fraser had noticed Ray had cut his hair on the side and the back, where the cap did no cover, but he never would have suspected the blond to cut it so short all the way around.          He was sure Ray had almost laughed at the Mounties's gaping expression of his hair, explaining that he had done it on a dare while he was away and that Fraser shouldn't worry, he was growing it back. This appeased Fraser somewhat, but he hadn't been able to keep from staring at Ray the rest of the way home. Fraser, of course, not wanting to appear rude, quickly informed Ray that he looked quite attractive and stylish with his new hair.          "Yer also lucky I'm not as prone ta violence as I used to be." Ray informed as he returned from his room, dressed in fresh jeans and socks, with a T-shirt in each hand.  Again Fraser's eyes drifted to Ray's hair, he missed the longer spikes more than he would ever have thought he would.          "I am grateful for that, Ray." He assured and moved to the hall closet where a spare pair of his jeans, a sweater and his extra brown bomber jacket stood. He removed his Stetson and set it on the special hook Ray had thoughtfully installed for just that purpose. Ray often offered to let Fraser come over and do his laundry, since there wasn't one at the consulate and Fraser almost always ended up leaving clothing behind, mixed up with Ray's.          "Here!" Ray tossed one of the shirts to Fraser, who caught it easily. "Too hot fer a sweater."          "Thank you kindly, Ray." Fraser returned pulling a pair of jeans from the hanger and closing the closet door as he headed to Ray's room to change.          "I left some unmentionables," Ray grinned wiggling his eyebrows as Fraser smirked at him and tried not to blush. "On da bed. Don't know if they're yers or mine, so help yerself." Fraser thanked him again as a knock sounded at the door.          Ray moved to answer it, as Fraser went to change. Storm started to smile in greeting, but faltered when she noticed the detective's bare chest, pale, smooth and very enticing with the promise of a hidden strength. Her ankle had healed up and she had been trying to find a reason to see the detective again. Her aunt had made some brownies and she asked if she could bring some up to Ray, giving her the excuse she needed. She also noticed his new hair cut and like Fraser tried to hide her shock. She rather liked it actually, it made him look like one of those military posters of the perfect GI. "Um...hi." Storm greeted smiling, as Ray shrugged into his T-shirt, unaware of her appraisal. "My aunt made some brownies and thought you might like some."          "She didn't have ta do dat." He insisted and Storm shrugged helplessly.           "I told Auntie you'd probably think she was being pushy, she said you liked your privacy but..."          "Oh, no!" Ray quickly assured. "It's not dat, I just...well she's just really sweet ta think of me." He stepped aside and waved her in. "Com'on in." She stepped over the threshold hesitantly and he closed the door as Fraser exited the bedroom.          "Ray, is this my blue shirt or yours?" He inquired holding up the simple navy button down. His eyes rested on Storm. "Oh, hello."          "Storm, dis is my partner Constable Benton Fraser." Ray introduced as he accepted the colorful tin from her and set it on the counter. "Frase, Storm..." he paused and looked at her. "I don't know yer last name, is it Pierce?" Storm shook her head.          "Black Feather." She supplied, her eyes never leaving the Mountie before her. "My Father is full blood Cherokee."          "Cool." Ray returned, though he had guessed her native heritage simply by looking at her. "She's my landlady's niece, Frase." He winked at her. "And an ex-jailbird." She blushed prettily at his teasing, though Fraser refrained from commenting on it, Ray had told him what had happened earlier.          "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Black Feather." He offered politely as Ray moved to inspect the shirt Fraser held.          "Dis is yours." He told the Mountie. "Mine has a tear in the sleeve." Fraser nodded; it was the only article of clothing that they ever confused other than their plain white socks and sometimes their jeans.          Fraser had commented that he liked the blue shirt one-day when his partner wore it, so Ray had managed to find one for him as a Christmas gift. Fraser had been delighted and he wore the shirt often to show his pleasure at the gift. It was a simple cotton cut with a short collar and long cuffed sleeves, which Ray usually, wore rolled up. But it was a roomy shirt, so the detective often wore it loose to hide his holster.          "I...it's nice to meet you as well, Constable." She returned finally. "My Aunt has mentioned you to me before I believe."          "She is a charming lady." Fraser confirmed smiling and Storm nodded quickly then turned her attention back to Ray, who was fastening his shoulder holster over his T-shirt.          "I...we hope you enjoy the brownies and....um...Auntie said to be careful if you are working tonight." She managed, flustered as she watched Ray check the magazine in his gun then slide it into the holster effectively. He retrieved his boots and slipped them on.          "I'll walk ya back." Ray offered as he pulled his slight Gray jacket from the closet behind him and retrieved a ball cap from the closet, since his other hat was wet. "Thank her personal." He glanced at Fraser. "I'll be back in a minute."          "Very well, Ray." Fraser replied easily, then to Storm. "It was very nice to meet you Miss. BlackFeather." Storm murmured a response then followed the detective out, her heart pounding in her chest. How could life be so cruel? She finally found a guy she really liked and it appeared he was already involved with the Mountie. She could understand the detective's choice of course, Fraser was incredibly handsome, but it still hurt like hell. Perhaps her friend Joanne was right; all the good ones were either taken or gay.          "I...you're partner seems very nice." She finally managed as they stepped into the lift and headed for the first floor. Ray nodded as he fitted the Bulls cap over his head.          "Yah, everybody likes Fraser." He commented. "Unless yer a bad guy, den they just find him ta be really annoying." She smiled.          "How long have you too been together?"          "Oh, almost six months now."          "Is he planing on moving in with you?" she inquired before she could stop herself and then blushed. "I...I mean my Aunt could probably get you a deal on one of the larger apartments." Ray regarded her quietly for a moment, then the elevator doors opened and they stepped out.          "I like my apartment." He replied slowly. "It's just right fer me and Fraser has his own place, well sorta. I can't see us bein' roomies, we'd end up killin' each other if we were around each other twenty four seven."          "Surely you could work those little things out for the sake of being together." Storm reasoned, surprised to find herself getting so brazenly personal. "I mean all couples go through an adjustment period that..."          "What did you just say?" he demanded stopping suddenly in the hallway and staring at her shocked. "You think me and Frase....that we...are...." He made motions with his hands when he could not bring himself o form the words and she blushed. "No Way! The Mounties as straight as an arrow and I am seriously heterosexual, I was even married once! How da hell did you come up dat we were gay?"          "I...well...he...he came out of your room and...and the shirt and..." she stammered aghast at her error.          "I do his laundry for him sometimes and he usually leaves a few changes of clothes at my place fer when we are doin' a stake out like tonight and wanna change into somethin' more comfortable." He glared at her. "Why am I explainin' dis to you? It's none of yer business what my relationship with my partner is either way!"          "I'm sorry." She whispered lowering her eyes contritely She deserved his anger, she had no right to pry into his personal affairs. When she glanced up timidly his expression had softened and his eyes were no longer sparkling with offense.          "Look, I...I didn't mean ta yell." He offered. "I...ya just...I never expected someone ta think..." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. "Fraser's my best friend and my partner but he's also straight and if yer interested in him den ya know now ya got a shot, though he gets real nervous around da ladies at times."          "I...I'm not interested in him." she protested quickly.          "Den why were ya so....." His eyes narrowed. "Den what difference would it make he was straight or gay?" She shook her head.          "I don't care if he is or not." She confirmed. "I...I thought...it was more...um...distressing to learn you might be." Ray regarded her in shock.          "Me?" he declared surprised. "Why would ya care if I was...." The look she gave him said it all as she blushed a pretty pink. "Oooohhh...ah....I get it." He shifted his weight slightly and scratched the back of his neck. "Um...you were upset because you...well...um...." He paused, his eyes going everywhere but her as he continued to nervously fidget. This wasn't fair! A beautiful woman actually had an interest in him and he was...well, he might not be around long enough to enjoy it, it just wasn't fair. "Well, I'm...I'm not...gay that is...I'm...er straight...real straight. I love women in fact." Finally his eyes met hers. "Thank yer aunt fer me, I gotta go we're...er...runnin' late." He was off and ducking into the elevator before she could respond and Storm growled at her own stupidity and leaned against the nearest wall, banging her head against the plaster repeatedly.            "She seems very nice, Ray." Fraser offered as they sat in the darkened alley inside Ray's GTO.          "Hmmm? Who, Fraser?" Ray asked startled, he hadn't been paying attention to what the Mountie was saying, nothing unusual there. His mind tended to wander more than usual lately, trying to deal with his sudden mortality had made him extremely thoughtful.          "Miss. BlackFeather." Fraser supplied. "She seems very nice."          "She thought we were gay." Ray blurted before he could stop himself and Fraser blushed.          "Oh Dear!" he chuckled. "I trust you set her straight?" Ray chuckled at his play on words, wondering if the Mountie did that intentionally or was simply oblivious to his pun.          "Yah." Ray returned as he stared at the warehouse across the street and sipped his coffee. "I thought she was upset 'cause she thought you were gay. Y'know how da women fall all over ya, thought maybe we ruined her life or something."          "Now really Ray." Fraser scolded. "My preference shouldn't matter to her or any one else one way or the other, especially if it is someone I have only just met."          "Yer a moron Fraser."          "Excuse me?"          "Yer an obtuse moron." Ray corrected with a grin. "Women would be out doin' away wit dem selves if it was suggested you were gay, dey wouldn't be able ta stand it. It'd be like sec...sac...sacra...a really bad thing."          "Sacrilegious, Ray?" Fraser offered and the detective nodded. "That's just silly, Ray. I am not a god, Saint or any other revered person, to be deemed worthy of sacrificing oneself."          "I'd sacrifice fer ya Fraser." Ray offered quietly and Fraser blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected such a profound and honest statement from his partner, but then Kowalski rarely missed the opportunity to surprise him.          Kowalski had already proved his loyalty on their first meeting when he took a bullet meant for Fraser from Greta Garbo. The detective had been wearing a vest, but she could have easily shot him somewhere more vital and therefore not protected, yet Ray had jumped in front of the Mountie anyway.          "And I you, Ray." He returned truthfully. "But to expect some woman I do not even know would..."          "I'm just teasin' ya, Buddy." Ray sighed, letting the Canadian off the hook before he started to blither and give Ray a headache. "But ya do get a lot of attention, hell da way ya look people'd have ta be blind not to notice, but I just, y'know thought Storm was upset over what she thought we were."          "Was she upset over it, Ray?"          "Kinda," Ray admitted. "Just not the way I thought." Fraser frowned.          "I am afraid I do not follow you, Ray."          "She was...um...upset because, well she thought that...well dat I was gay." He finally managed as Fraser regarded him quietly.          "That stands to reason then that she was relieved when you told her you were not?" he inquired and Ray nodded. "So she has feelings for you then?"          "I dunno, Fraser." Ray returned. "I...she's Mrs. Pierce's niece and...well it don't seem right ta...well get involved with da relatives of the person ya pay rent to. Besides she's only stayin' awhile."          "Perhaps she could be convinced to stay longer?" Fraser offered and Ray shook his head, but remained silent. "Unless of course your mysterious lady from this weekend past means more to you than just a casual encounter?" Ray did not offer a comment one way or the other. "Hmmm."          "Do. Not. Do. That. Fraser." Ray warned.          "Sorry, Ray." Fraser returned. "I was just agreeing with you. In reality I can well understand your dilemma, it is much the same as my problem with Francesca."          "You like Frannie, she likes you, where's da problem?" Ray demanded.         Whether Fraser admitted his feeling or not Ray had somehow managed to see inside his heart with regards to the pretty Italian that worked with them and Fraser just excepted now that Ray was going to comment on it on occasion, that was just the way the detective was.          "She is Ray Vecchio's sister." Fraser reminded and Ray grinned.          "I'm Ray Vecchio." He rebuked. "And I say go fer it. I'm givin' ya permission.          "Ray, you are not really Ray Vecchio."          "Prove it." Ray challenged still grinning.          "You do not look any thing like him for one."          "I coulda had surgery." Ray taunted.          "You're slightly shorter than he is."          "Some people shrink wit age, it's a common fact."          "Your finger prints and dental records are not those of Ray Vecchio." Fraser insisted, used to their familiar game.          "Dey are in my file." Ray continued.          "Your behavior is totally different from Ray Vecchio's."          "It's da job, stress changes a person sometimes." Ray concluded and Fraser sighed in defeat. They could go on with this forever but the detective was in rare form tonight and winning would not come easy this time. Finally Fraser said something that he knew the detective could not rebuke.          "Ray Vecchio never understood me the way you do. He never had the window into my soul that you seem to view me with." Ray stared at him startled and for a moment Fraser saw tears well up in his partner's eyes and he mirrored them in his own gaze. Both men quickly blinked them away and composed themselves.          "Den I'm glad I'm not Ray Vecchio." Ray finally admitted when he could speak. Fraser smiled.          "As am I." the Mountie offered. "Though I do miss him, I am glad that I had the chance to know you as well." Ray grinned, as his expression grew wistful.          "Same here, Barry." Ray returned "Still think you should go fer it, though." He insisted quietly. "Life's too short not to try for somethin' ya want."         Fraser regarded him thoughtfully, deciding not to comment on the detective's slip of his name; who was Barry? Curiosity was about to get the better of him and just when he would have asked a movement caught Ray's eye.         "Hey, dere's our suspect. Pitter patter buddy."   Both men quickly exited the vehicle and went to apprehend their prey.            "Hey Ray!" Francesca called out as he and Fraser entered the station the following day, after running down some leads in one of their cases. She hurried up to them and handed the detective a slip of paper with a name and number on it, while making eyes at her favorite Mountie in the process. "I called about that tailor you asked me to check on and it seems that the shop doesn't exist where he claimed to work."          "Why the f**k don't you mind your own business!" Ray snapped snatching the paper from her hand and shocking those around him, especially his pretend sister and partner. "Mind yer own f**kin' business!"          "Ray!" Fraser exclaimed as Francesca stared at him speechless, then fled with her hands over her face to hide her tears. Ray had left them to walk over to his desk and Fraser hurried after him. "Ray!"          "Yah, Frase?" the detective replied calmly as he dropped the note on his desk and pulled off his leather jacket to drape over the back of his chair.          "Why did you say that to Francesca?" Fraser demanded trying to curb his shock and anger at his partner's reprehensible behavior. Ray glanced at him confused.          "Say what, Buddy?" he asked curious and Fraser stared at him reprovingly.          "W...what you said." The Mountie returned, not wanting to repeat the harsh words. "Why did you swear at her and behave so abominably?"           Ray gazed at him for a long moment, before lowering his eyes to the note on his desk. What had he said to Francesca? He didn't remember saying anything more than thank you. Did he swear at her? He couldn't have done that, why would he? He never swore at women, especially not Betty she...he shook his head, Frannie, not Betty. He dropped into his chair as his head started to throb; unaware of Fraser's sharp appraisal that was quickly turning to concern. Fraser wouldn't lie to him, certainly not abut something like this, and the Mountie really looked angry.          "I...I'll go apologize." Ray informed quietly, rising from his chair and walking off in search of the pretty Italian. He found her in the break room, pouring herself a cup of coffee with shaky hands. "Frannie?" Her back stiffened at the sound of his voice and she did not turn to face him. "Look, I'm...I'm sorry for whatever it was that I said that upset you."          "Whatever you said!" she declared turning finally and glaring furiously at him. "You can't even figure out what part I might get offended at?" Ray bit his lip and tried to remember what he had said, but he was drawing a blank.          "I...yah, I...I mean of course." he lied. "I...I'm sorry, really. I don't know why I said it. Ya can pop me if ya want." Francesca seemed to consider this before walking up to him and raising her hand as Ray prepared for the blow, but instead she just shoved at his chest and sniffed.          "Don't ever do it again." she warned the stalked off as Ray breathed a sigh of relief. He probably deserved her physical abuse, much worse than what she offered at that point.          "I'll try not to." He whispered to himself, trying to quell the unreasonable fear rising within him. What was going on?            Storm and Mrs. Pierce did not see Ray at all the next few weeks; either he was leaving early or coming home long after they had retired for the evening. He had left the empty tin by the door with a note of thanks to both of them, but had not attempted to accept Mrs. Pierce's offer for dinner. Storm was convinced she had scared him away and was depressed over her actions. She would sit by her bedroom window for hours hoping to catch a glimpse of him as he pulled into the parking lot. She couldn't eat or sleep; all her thoughts were of Ray.  She had actually gathered the courage to go to his apartment twice, but he either wasn't answering the door or was not yet home. Every now and then she would hear a gentle thumping above her and her Aunt informed her it was probably the detective dancing again, so Storm would spend that time envisioning she was the one Ray was dancing with.          "Storm?" her aunt inquired as she entered her niece's room where the taller woman was laying on her bed daydreaming. She felt foolish, being thirty-three years old and so caught up in a crush, but she couldn't seem to help herself. "Well you go and fetch the mail for me dear?"          "Sure Auntie." She agreed rising from her bed and leaving the apartment to wander down the hall toward the entrance of the building where the mail boxes were located. She was just pulling her mail out when a cool breeze drifted toward her and she turned to see the object of her desire enter the building.          "Hey." He greeted as he pulled open his own mailbox and grabbed out the handful of letters and flyers inside.          "H...Hi." she finally managed after watching him close it and start away.  "D...Detective?" He stopped and turned back to her. "H...how are you doing?"          "Fine." He replied. "You?"          "I...I'm okay." She stammered. "I like spending time with my Aunt."          "Glad to hear it." He acknowledged and headed toward he stairs.          "Have I done something to offend you?' She called after him desperately as she slammed the mailbox closed and hurried after him.          "No." he replied calmly, as his hand reached for the door that led to the stairwell.          "Auntie has been waiting for you to set a time to come for dinner." She blurted, shuffling her feet nervously as she lowered her eyes. "I...Can I tell her when you and you partner might be available? She really is set on it."          "I'll ask Fraser." Ray promised. "I'll call her later, okay?" Storm nodded and watched him disappear up the stairs.  She sighed and was headed back toward their apartment when she heard the distinct sound of a loud thud on the stairwell. The mail fluttered from her hand as she ran back to the door where the detective had disappeared, and headed quickly up the stairs.           She found him slumped on the bottom of the third landing, from the position of his body he looked like he may have fallen from the stairs or the higher platform. She kneeled beside him and checked for a pulse, relieved to find one.  She gently slapped his cheeks to try and awaken him, but he was not moving and she became concerned. She then quickly started to search for the cell phone she knew he carried and shaking fingers she dialed 911 and gave them the address, then tossed the phone aside, continuing to try and revive him.          "Please don't die." She pleaded with him as her free hand wiped his hair from his brow, knowing that the fall could have seriously damaged him, depending on how high up the stairs he had made it before he came crashing down.  She gently cushioned his head with her legs. "Not now that I've found you, please be okay."            At the hospital they would not let Storm or Mrs. Pierce see Ray and because they were not family they were given no information on his condition. Storm paced the hospital waiting room, as they waited for Fraser to appear; her aunt had called the Mountie as soon the ambulance left with Ray then drove her niece to the hospital. Luckily there had been someone at the Canadian consulate to give the Mountie the message, for he had been on an errand when she originally called.           Storm continued to pace thinking of Ray and how mush she loved him. She had known it from the moment she had set eyes on him and he had so tenderly and somewhat shyly carried her to her Aunt's apartment. She would forever be grateful that the chair she had been standing on to reach the higher window in the basement to allow air inside, had given beneath her and allowed her to injure her ankle, for had she not fallen Ray would never have come to her rescue. Storm was a practical woman, she did not believe in love at first sight or infatuation, feeling herself above such trivial romanticism, but after meeting the detective all prior notions of what could and could not happen in the wheels of fate flew out the window.          Her mind came back to the present as a handsome woman with a friendly smile and luminous green eyes walked up to them, a long white medical coat draped over the simple floral dress she wore. She was perhaps three to four inches shorter than Storm, but she had long legs and an impressive figure from what could be seen.          "Mrs. Pierce?" She asked as Judith nodded and stepped forward to extend her hand to the doctor. "I'm Dr. Brook, Ray's personal physician."          "H...How is he?" Storm asked concerned. "They wouldn't tell us anything."          "That is policy." Sehra informed regretfully. "But I have spoken to Ray and he explained who you both were. He's doing fine and he says he is sorry of he scared either of you by his collapse."          "What happened?" Judith asked. "Is he ill?"          "Why don't I let him explain." Sehra suggested warmly. "I'll bring you in to see him if you like."          "You go on, Dear." Judith offered. "I'll stay here and watch for Fraser." Storm nodded and followed Dr. Brook to Ray's room. The detective appeared to be resting comfortably, even sitting up in the stark white bed and flipping through a magazine, an IV strapped to his arm. He glanced up as they entered and he offered Storm an embarrassed smile.           "Hey." He greeted tossing the magazine aside as Sehra left them alone and closed the door.           "H...How do you feel?' she asked shyly, unable to hide her worry.           "I'm okay." He assured her and offered a weak smile. "Thanks to you." She blushed and lowered his eyes."           "Did they say what was wrong?" she asked curious and he shrugged.           "Exhaustion." He supplied readily. "And a little dehydration." He indicated the IV fluid. "Fraser will probably kill me when he gets here fer not takin' better care of myself." Storm tried to smile, but she was simply too worried and nervous for it to fully form. "Thanks fer what you did."           "I'm just glad you're all right." She informed quietly. Ray crooked her finger and indicated she move closer, which she did readily. He took her hand and pressed the back of her fingers to his lips.           "Guess now we're even, hey?" he teased and she blushed as a knock sounded at his door. Ray released her hand and called for the person to enter, glad to see his partner standing in the doorway. He grinned.           "Hey, Buddy." He greeted. "What brings ya here?" Fraser smirked, as he worked to keep his expression firm.           "My partner apparently can't stay out of trouble."           "You know me, Frase." Ray laughed as the Mountie entered the room and inclined his head to Storm, removing his Stetson politely.           "Hello, Miss. BlackFeather. Thank you for coming to Ray's aid so quickly." Storm nodded and started to move away from Ray reluctantly.           "I'll let you two visit." She offered moving toward the door.            Both men thanked her and she left the room, leaning against the door wistfully as it closed behind her. She flexed the fingers of her right hand, remembering the feel of his brief touch and sighed. He had been cool to the touch and his usually strong hands seemed weak in her grip. She remembered how those hands had carried her when she had hurt her ankle that first day.         How they had offered her aunt tissues to dry her tears, how he used his hands to express his feelings, anger, joy, and disbelief. She could fall in love with just Ray's hand's easily, but there were so many other endearing qualities as well.           His feline grace in the very way he moved, like a nimble panther stalking casually across his terrain. He gave the appearance of nonchalant ease yet there was a subtle danger lying just beneath his calm exterior. His crooked smile that could express a multitude of feeling, sarcasm, wit, pleasure, charm, warning and challenge all visible in his appetizingly full lips. His flashing eyes, the color of heated blue steel, sparkled with intensity unlike anything Storm had ever seen that rivaled the brightest stars in the sky.         He wore his emotions outward, some would consider a man him weak for such a display, but Sehra thought it just added to his masculinity. Ray was not afraid to feel or to show those feelings and that made him twice the man of any others around him. He was fueled by a deliberate passion that seemed to have no stable grounding, only the need to fly free in whatever situation or manner it deemed necessary. He was impulsive and bold with an uncertainty that equalized his witty confidence, making him brave but not foolish.           However Ray did not seem to reciprocate her feelings and she knew she might have to deal with the fact that she would have to try and forget him and move on. She had already convinced her aunt to allow her to stay awhile longer, giving herself time to be sure that there would never be anything between her and the detective.           "Ray, you have to take it easy." Sehra Brook warned after Fraser left and she was alone again with the detective. "You can't keep up this pace."           "I feel fine, Doc." Ray insisted and Sehra shook her head.           "You are not fine." She stated. "Ray, we have to run more tests, I believe that the tumor may be growing again." Ray stared at her.           "I thought the radiation..." he began.           "Sometimes it kills off the remaining cells, but as I told you it may not." Sehra explained. "We have to run more tests and..."           "I don't want anymore tests done damnit!" Ray exclaimed then forced himself to calm down. "I...I'm sorry. I...I just...I guess I was starting to get my hopes up that..."           "Of course you were." She offered gently. "That is normal. But I did tell you the surgery and radiation was not a cure, it may only give you time." Ray nodded.           "I...I know." He sighed. "I...I've just felt so good the last few weeks I thought..." he shook his head. "So what do I have to do now?"           "We'll run another CT scan and see what we can find." She replied. "Are you going to tell anyone if the tumor has returned?" Ray shook his head.           "I haven't decided yet." He acknowledged. "First things first I guess." Sehra nodded and went to schedule his tests.             Vecchio was back. What the hell should he do now? Ray Kowalski slumped against the chair outside the hospital room, waiting for Fraser to reappear. This was great, just great, like he didn't have enough to deal with and now he was about to loose his best friend and partner. He dropped his head in his hands, running his fingers through the familiar thick blond spikes that had grown back awhile ago to their original disorganized state. Vecchio. Why couldn't he have waited just a little while longer to return? Why did Fraser have to see him at that hotel and blow his cover?           He sighed and sat up, leaning his head against the wall behind him. Storm BlackFeather had returned home a few weeks earlier, Ray had tried to be accommodating to her, but he could not in good conscience develop a relationship with her, despite how she felt about him. Fraser had argued with him, but Ray could only pretend that he simply didn't feel that way about the native woman, denying himself any of what she had to offer.          Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe it would be better this way, Fraser would have Vecchio back and then Kowalski could just fade into the background, never having to explain....Ray shook his head. He couldn't do that to Fraser. He owed him the truth; he just hadn't gathered the nerve to tell the Mountie about his condition. He closed his eyes and replayed his conversation with Sehra Brook just a couple of short months before.           "So the Cancer is back?" he confirmed and she nodded sadly. Ray wet his lips and pulled his hand from hers, rising to walk across the soft carpet of her office to stare out at the city below. "Will, will I be a vegetable?" Sehra rose and went to stand behind him, allowing him the space he needed and not giving into her instincts to pull him into her embrace and protect him.          "No, I don't think so." She denied. "Most times you experience good days and bad days, much like the symptoms you have been going through, vomiting, headaches, fatigue. Sometimes you'll feel perfectly fine and healthy." She bit her lips and forced herself to continue. "Some people, toward the end experience blindness, confusion and delusions. Some go into a coma for a short while and some go in their sleep."          "So...so it won't hurt?" Ray asked, then blushed sheepishly. "Not dat I'm afraid of pain, hell workin' wit Fraser I've had my share I just..." Sehra then decided to break her promise not to touch him, as she settled firm hands on his shoulders and rubbed them soothingly. Most people were afraid of a painful death; Ray had nothing to be ashamed of.          "I don't think it will, Ray." She admitted. "I can only assume it's peaceful from those I have seen and stories related to me." He nodded.           "What about another surgery?" he suggested, grasping at straws. "More radiation treatments?"           "I don't honestly think it will help, Ray." She stated regretfully. "But you can get a second opinion." Ray shook his head; he'd already gone to a crowd of doctors and specialist at her insistence when he was first diagnosed, to assure her diagnosis was the correct one. Ray was ready to trust her on this; she wouldn't lie to him at this stage in the game.           "So...how long?" he asked defeated.           "Judging by the rate of growth found on your original tumor, possibly three to four months, maybe a little longer." She confirmed and watched him release a shaky breath as his fingers gripped the windowsill beneath him.           "Oh God!" he murmured painfully. "Sweet Jesus!" Sehra noticed he had started to hyperventilate and she made him sit down and breath into a small paper bag she had just for such an occasion. It was ironic how many people tended to forget to breathe when they discovered they were dying.           "I...I'm okay." He finally whispered pushing the bag away. "I...I just gotta...I gotta think I...."           "It's okay, Ray." She assured kneeling before him. "Do whatever you feel like doing, let it out, baby." Ray shook his head defiantly, not wanting to give into the chaos that he was suddenly overwhelmed with, but even he was not strong enough to stop the betrayal of angry tears from sliding down his pale cheeks. Sehra wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her, allowing him to cry against her as he returned her embrace desperately.           "I...I have to go." He murmured suddenly, pushing her away and standing up.           "Ray, let me call Fraser." She suggested, not wanting him to be alone at this time.           "NO!" he refused furious. "I...I don't need him. I'm...I'll be okay. I...I just have to get out of here. I can't breath I can't..." He shook his head desperately and bolted from the room as Sehra stared after him helplessly.           Ray had left the GTO parked at the clinic and walked for hours around Chicago, not going anywhere in particular, but needing to just keep moving. When he finally returned to get his car, it dark and he slowly drove home, entered his apartment and cried himself to sleep.           Now, here he sat, waiting for yet another boom to fall, another heart wrenching change to happen. Fraser would be leaving him he understood that. Vecchio was back, they no longer needed Ray and Ray was now out of a job, out of the life that he had come to cherish the life that belonged to another man. He glanced up as Fraser finally exited the room.           "So." Ray remarked nervously after Fraser informed him about Muldoon. "We still partners?"               "If you'll have me?" Fraser requested quietly and Ray felt his heart leap in his chest. For the second time he was given another chance, additional time to get things right and he couldn't even find the words he needed to say how much he wanted to have Fraser as his partner. Instead he inclined his head and the pair was off on yet another adventure.            "Would you care for some more stew, Ray?" Fraser offered as the cold north wind howled around their tiny hand built shelter. Ray shook his head, indicating his still half-full plate.          "I'm good, Buddy." He assured as he offered the remainder of his stew to Diefenbaker who was waiting next to him for the treat. "Couldn't eat another bite."          "Was the meal not satisfactory, Ray?" Fraser inquired anxiously. "I know my cooking is not the greatest but..." He had been worried that his friend had not been eating enough lately and loosing weight, something Ray could not afford to do in this desolate wilderness.          "Yer cookin's fine, Frase." Ray quickly assured. "I'm just not real hungry." Fraser watched him settle back against his backpack and bedroll, his ever-observant eyes noting the slightest difference in his friends' color or appearance.          Ray had confided in him about his life-threatening tumor just shortly before they decided to go on their quest. Fraser of course had argued that Ray should be back in Chicago where the doctors could help him, but the detective was insistent. He had his fill of doctors, tests, hospitals and the like. He wanted to go on an adventure with Fraser, he wanted to spend whatever time he had left with the Mountie and Fraser was both flattered and concerned for Ray's well being.          At first Fraser had been angry with Ray for waiting so long to tell him, angrier still when he found out that the detective had still not told his parents before they had left to chase Muldoon. He was being irresponsible. How could he not tell those who cared for him that he was dying? Ray was stubborn, he would do it his way and nothing Fraser said or did would change that.          Fraser tried not to comment on Ray's lack of appetite, his easy fatigue despite the detective's bravado to keep going. Ray was always in good spirits, whether it was natural or he was putting up a front for Fraser's benefit the Mountie couldn't be sure. Now and then Ray would say something totally out of the blue that had no relation to what they might have been speaking of, then not seem to even be aware he had said anything at all, continuing the conversation as though there had never been a break from topic.         Sometimes Ray would see things that were not there; due either to the snow blindness or his illness itself and sometimes Ray would carry on complete conversations with himself as though Fraser was not even present. More than once Ray called Fraser Barry or Tom and the Mountie pretended not to hear the difference or ask who these people might be.          Fraser rarely saw him ill physically, other than frequent headaches that he seemed to endure and Fraser would offer to rub and help relieve the soreness in his neck and shoulders. Fraser was loosing his best friend and the idea was playing havoc with his emotions. He promised he would not show his distress in front of his partner, but whenever Ray was asleep, Fraser often wandered off to quietly cry or deal with his barely contained anger. It wasn't fair, Ray was so young, so vibrant, he should not have to die this way.          "Frase?" Ray asked quietly, bringing the Mountie back to the present. He forced a smile to his lips and glanced over at his friend. "You okay? You looked kind of far away for a minute dere."          "Just thinking about how long it should take us to get to Inuvick, Ray." He lied easily as he washed out their dishes with a cloth and the clean snow around them. "We should be there late tomorrow." Ray smiled.          "Great, I need a shower." He decided and Fraser smiled for real this time.          "You could just remove your clothes and roll in the snow Ray." He suggested and the look the blond tossed him pretty much conveyed what he thought of that particular activity.          "I am not a Penguin, seal or any other type of...what was dat bird you told me about?"          "Puffin?"          "Yah, or one of those." Ray replied. "Besides, I think it's time ta head home buddy."          "My Father's cabin is a good week away Ray." Fraser explained. "But I suppose we could..."          "No no." Ray reiterated. "I mean my home, Ben. Chicago." Fraser stared at him, unwilling to see the meaning in the steel blue eyes that gazed back at him. Ray had used his first name, perhaps a slip of the tongue or something more, either reason suddenly made Fraser uncomfortable.          "You aren't enjoying your time here?" he deliberately misunderstood and Ray shook his head.          "No, I...It's been great, Fraser." He assured. "I've had fun, spendin' time with you and Dief, lookin' fer dat hand. But, I got things I gotta take care of." He glanced meaningfully at his partner, willing him to understand so he wouldn't have to say it aloud. "It's time to go home, Buddy."          "Oh Ray." Fraser whispered regretfully. "I...." It was too soon, Fraser's mind screamed, and then he forced himself to calm down. "Certainly Ray. I believe we can catch a plane in Inuvick."          "Good, dat's good Ben." Ray sighed and settled back against his bedroll again, unaware of his friend's thoughtful appraisal.            "That was an enjoyable evening, was it not, Ray?" Fraser asked as they entered Ray's apartment and removed their coats and shook the snow from their hats and hair. Diefenbaker shook his fur and quickly went to settle beside the sofa. Ray had seemed tired all evening, but he was very cheerful as they attended the precinct's Christmas party. They had arrived back from Canada just two weeks before and here it was already Christmas Eve and Ray seemed in great spirits.           Ray had finally confided in his parents about his illness and neither took the news well. His Father became furious, both at ray for not telling them sooner and over the idea that this was happening to his son. Barbara Kowalski was quiet for a long time, before she finally broke down and sobbed openly, professing her undying love for her son as though he were already gone. Ray took it in stride and declined both his parents' offer that hey should move in to watch him, he had Fraser, he was a big boy, and he would be fine.          "The best, Benton, Buddy." Ray agreed as he set their selection of gifts under the small tabletop tree in the corner. "Frannie was lookin' hot."          "She did look enchanting." Fraser agreed, ignoring his friend's wink as he hung up their coats in the closet, while ray dropped down on the sofa and ruffled the wolf's fur affectionately.          "Com'ere buddy, I wanna talk to you." Fraser moved to settle beside him, glad that he had chosen to wear his casuals to the party and thus would be more comfortable the remainder of the evening. "You goin' back to Canada?"          "Eventually yes." Fraser confirmed, wondering where that question had come from. "It is my home."          "You gonna try to look fer the hand of Franklin again?" Ray teased and Fraser smiled.          "Perhaps when you are feeling better we can both return to..." he began but Ray cut him off.          "I won't be going back with you, Frase." He informed gently. "You already know that don't you?" Fraser hesitated then lowered his eyes and nodded sadly.          "Yes, Ray." He returned quietly. "I understand that."          "I do feel better than I have in awhile, though." Ray offered. "That's something right?" Fraser nodded. "I have some things I want ya to do fer me."          "Of course, Ray." Fraser agreed readily, knowing he would do anything for his friend.          "Well, I know ya ain't into jewelry and stuff, other than yer Dad's watch." Ray explained as Fraser watched the detective remove his silver bracelet from his wrist and gently snap it around Fraser's own flesh. "I want ya to wear this, kinda to remember me by. It always brought me luck and I'd like you to have it."          "I...Ray I..." Fraser was speechless as he gently fingered the charm with trembling fingers. "I...I don't know what to say. I don't need this to remember you, you are my best friend, I shall always remember you."          "That's great, Fraser." Ray sighed, resting his head on his palm as he propped his elbow on the back of the sofa. "Glad ya think so. So will you wear it then?"          "O...of course, Ray." Fraser managed blinking back his tears.          "Good." Ray decided pleased. "The other thing is I want you to be the one to tell Stella and my folks. I know it will be hard, but I'd rather they hear it from you when the time comes." Fraser could only nod words refused to form through the large lump that was suddenly constricting his throat. "Greatness. Two more things then I'll be done. Dere are four envelopes on my dresser in the bedroom, one fer my folks, one fer Frannie, Stella and one fer you, but I don't want ya anyone to open dem until New Year's day, okay? Make sure dey understand that, Buddy, don't read them until then, okay?" Fraser nodded slowly. "Okay, this one is real important, Ben."          "Ray don't..." Fraser began, unable to help the fear rising within him, even as Ray gently placed his hand over the Mounties's and gave him a reassuring squeeze.          "Don't interrupt, Buddy." He warned softly and Fraser could see the moisture mirrored in the blonde's eyes. "When you wake up tomorrow, I want ya to take Dief for a nice long walk around the park, maybe fer an hour or more."          "Ray why...?"          "When you come back." Ray continued as though Fraser had not spoken. "I want ya to call Vecchio and ask him to come over here, then sit on the sofa until he gets here, okay?" Fraser shook his head as he realized why Ray was telling him all this.          "Ray please...I...I can't! Let me..."          "Fraser this is important, okay." Ray Inforced firmly. "I want someone here with you, okay?"          "It's too soon, Ray!" Fraser refused. "Please, we...we can stay up and talk we...we can play a game we can...I can stay with you and...please don't do this to me, Ray."          "Benton, buddy." Ray soothed the anxious Mountie. "It needs to be this way. I thought a lot about this and it's how I want it."          "No!" Fraser bolted to his feet and wiped the tears away from his eyes angrily. "Why should you be so brave? Why do you want to die alone?"          "I'm not alone, Fraser." Ray promised, remaining seated. "I've never been alone, not since I met you. Com'ahn Frase, let me off the hook on this one okay? Do it my way, please?"      "Ray you don't know what you are asking...I can't..."          "I  know exactly what I am asking and I know it will be hard, but you have to promise me, Buddy." Ray insisted. "Do it as I ask, okay? Take Dief for a walk then call Vecchio." Fraser slumped down in the opposing chair.          "I...I...alright Ray." He finally agreed his promise sounded hollow and angry, but it was enough for Ray, who nodded and finally stood up.          "Good." He moved to the kitchen and pulled out some sodas then went about preparing popcorn in the microwave. "We'll watch It's a Wonderful Life on the T.V, eat some popcorn, maybe you'll sing some Christmas carols for me, then we'll both go to bed." Fraser nodded reluctantly.          So, that was what they did, they sat and enjoyed each other's company as they watched the movie and ate popcorn. Fraser convinced Ray to stay and watch A Christmas Carol with him, so the detective agreed. Afterwards, when Ray started tidying up, Fraser suggested now they should sing the songs but Ray said it was getting late. He knew the Mountie was trying to prolong their time together and Ray couldn't really blame him, but he was getting more and more tired and it was getting harder for him to think straight.          "Time fer bed, Benton, Buddy." He insisted. "Pitter Patter or Santa won't come."          "It's still early, Ray." Fraser protested. "Why don't we play a game?"          "I can't Fraser." Ray refused gently. "I'm sorry but it's time to go to bed." Fraser moved with lightening speed across the living room and caught Ray's arm just outside the bedroom.          "Please, Ray." He begged. "Let me stay with you. I won't speak or do anything to disturb you, but please let me..."          "Buddy don't do this." Ray sighed exasperated. "I can't think straight as it is and I don't have the energy to fight. You promised to do it my way, yer a Mountie, how can ya break yer promise?"          "I don't care about the damn promise!" Fraser exclaimed desperately.  "Ray...I..."          "Fraser." Ray said softly as he pried the Mounties's fingers from his arm. "I love you Buddy. It will be okay, I promise." Fraser started shaking and Ray was forced to pull him into his embrace.          "Don't leave me, Ray." He pleaded half hysterically, uncaring if his disciplined composure was shot or if he was acting like a fool. "I love you, please don't leave me." Ray blinked back his own tears.          "I'm not leaving, Ben." He vowed as he pulled away to place his hand on Fraser's rapidly beating heart. "I'll always be here, right here with you." Fraser sniffed and allowed Ray to move away from him. "Say good night Benton buddy."          "G...good night Ray, my friend." Fraser finally managed and it was the hardest words he had ever had to voice. He stepped aside reluctantly so Ray could enter the bedroom and close the door.          Fraser watched Diefenbaker paw at the door and whine in protest and Fraser felt like doing the same thing himself. He finally led the wolf away and went to settle back on the sofa. He knew he would not sleep this night, nor would his wolf, so he made himself as comfortable as possible and waited for dawn to come. In his mind he replayed all the adventures he and Ray Kowalski had shared, the good times and the bad times they had come through.          When the soft glow of morning began to light the apartment, Fraser rose and rinsed the tear tracks from is tired face over the kitchen sink. He glanced down at Diefenbaker then at the door to Ray's bedroom. Blinking away a fresh gathering of tears he retrieved his coat and Stetson and opened the front door to lead the pitiful wolf from the apartment.          He did not take Diefenbaker to the park, instead he walked to the Vecchio's, which was almost the same distance had he went to the park for an hour. He settled on the steps and waited, not willing to wake up anyone in the house. Diefenbaker paced for awhile back and forth, then settled beside him sadly. When Ray Vecchio opened his front door to let the spirit of Christmas Day in, as was their tradition, he found the Mountie and wolf asleep against the porch railing. In his heart he knew why they were there and he returned inside to dress. The End  FEEDBACK