Due South and all of its characters belong to Alliance Communications Views to: Linda@hamgdns.freeserve.co.uk Check out my story page at: http://www/1freespace.com/linda1/ Dedicated to my friend Ruthie Biermann, who loves Ray and Fraser as much as I do! THE STAKE-OUT by Linda Hughes It was early evening; Constable Benton Fraser of the R.C.M.P. and his wolf Diefenbacker stood on the steps to the Canadian Consulate. Dressed casually in jeans, checked shirt and black leather jacket, Fraser scanned the evening traffic for the familiar car of his unofficial partner. Dief whined looking up at Fraser. "Yes, I know Dief. He's late," Fraser sighed. A sudden screeching of tyres announced the arrival of the black GTO. "Hey Frase. Pitter patter, let's get at 'er," Ray Kowalski shouted as he pushed open the passenger door for the Mountie. Dief bounded down the steps leaping into his usual place in the back seat. "Hiya Dief buddy," Ray ruffled his furry head. Fraser sighed shaking his head and ambled slowly towards the car. "Good evening Ray," he said as he slid into the seat, placing his stetson on the dashboard. Ray grinned at him. "Been waiting long Frase?" he asked. "No. Ray. Only since the time you said you would pick me up. And that would be," he glanced at his watch. "About half an hour ago." "Sorry Frase," Ray apologised sheepishly as he gunned the engine and swerved into the traffic. "Sorta lost track of time organising supplies fer tonight." "Ahhh. I see," Fraser murmured groaning inwardly; he knew the kind of supplies his partner usually brought along for an evening surveillance. Ray ignored the Mountie turning his attention to driving through the busy Chicago traffic. "Ya ready for the stake out Frase?" he asked glancing at his partner. "Yes Ray," the Mountie replied. "May I ask who or what is the subject of our surveillance tonight?" "Gonna be watching a warehouse. Pretty boring huh?" Ray said. "Not necessarily Ray," Fraser replied. Ray sniffed. "The 27th and 18th have been watching the warehouse for over two weeks now in the hope that a narcotics buy goes down. And nothing has happened. We are in fer a long night Frase." "Don't worry Ray. I will keep you entertained. I have several Inuit stories that I have yet to tell you," Fraser said. Ray groaned. "Greatness," he said unconvincingly. Dief whined putting his head on his paws in defeat. "I'm with ya Dief," Ray turned to the wolf. Ray drove through a red light before Fraser could offer a response to the apparent insult to his stories. Turning back to look. "Ray. You just drove through a red light," he scolded. "Nah, it was green," Ray claimed. "No it was definitely red," Fraser persisted. "Green," Ray argued. "Red," Fraser insisted. "Green," Ray said firmly. "No it was definitely red," Fraser affirmed. "Red," Ray declared. "No Ray. Green," Fraser insisted. Ray turned to his partner his blue eyes flashing with humour. "See told ya it was green." Dief woofed in agreement. Fraser realising his mistake frowned at his partner. "I can see that it is going to be a long night." Ray snickered turning his attention back to the traffic. Forty-five minutes later, Ray carefully parked the GTO behind a navy blue Ford Mustang. Fraser glanced around their surroundings; the neighbourhood was made up of small industrial lots. Large signs over the buildings advertised the companies' merchandise. The area was dimly lit, and cars were parked on both sides of the street. "Stay here Frase. I'll just check in with the guys in front," Ray instructed as he slipped out of the car. Ray ambled towards the Mustang. Bending he peered over the top of his glasses. "Hiya. Vecchio from the 27th here to relieve ya," he said to the officer nearest to him. The officer scowled. "Benson. And you're late. This aint a Sunday school picnic." Ray glared at Benson. "Well I'm here now. Any movement?" "None. Someone will relieve you at 6.00 a.m. Vecchio," Benson said starting to turn the key in the ignition. "Have a good night." Ray watched as the Mustang drove slowly down the street turning at the corner, and disappearing from view. He sighed making his way back to the GTO. Retrieving a bag from the trunk, he slid into his seat. "Make yerself comfy. We're in fer a long night," he muttered. Fraser nodded towards the bag. "What have you got in the bag?" he asked curious. Ray beamed. "Supplies," he answered dipping his hand into the bag. "Oh dear," Fraser murmured. "Pastrami with everything fer me," he produced a large untidily wrapped sandwich. "And tuna salad fer the green Mountie," he handed a package to a stunned looking Fraser. "Thank you kindly Ray," Fraser said trying to disguise the surprise in his voice. "What?" Ray demanded. He narrowed his eyes at the Mountie. "Ya thought I'd only bring unhealthy stuff didn't ya?" "No. Well yes," Fraser admitted carefully unwrapping his sandwich avoiding his partner's eyes. "Well I made them myself. I even bought ya a flask of bark tea," Ray said offering Fraser a small thermos he had produced from the bag. "I am sorry I doubted you Ray," Fraser apologised. "So ya should be," Ray bit into his sandwich. Dief had been quietly watching from the back seat. His usual hunger got the better of him, and he leaned forward and licked Ray's ear. "Dief," Ray protested. The wolf whined forlornly. "OK. OK. I didn't forget ya," Ray said delving once more into the bag. Producing a second pastrami sandwich, he offered it to the wolf, who greedily gobbled it down before Fraser could protest. Dief lovingly nuzzled Ray's neck in thanks. "Yer welcome Dief," Ray smirked glancing sideways at his partner. "I don't know which one of you is worse," Fraser sighed. "You encourage each other." "It's what partners are fer," Ray said ruffling the wolf's furry head. Dief barked in agreement. Fraser shook his head in defeat pouring himself a cup of bark tea from the thermos. Ray produced a second thermos; unscrewing the top, he balanced it carefully between his knees. Searching the bag again, he produced a packet of M&Ms. He dropped a handful into the hot liquid, and placed the packet with the remaining candy carefully on the dashboard. "Ray. Your eating habits leave a lot to be desired," Fraser reprimanded. "I am sure if you tried you would enjoy a salad." Taking a sip of his coffee. "Ya think," Ray said. "Yes. Salads are extremely healthy. There are several interesting articles on the subject written by doctors with excellent reputations," Fraser continued. "Ya could be right," Ray smiled taking another bite of his sandwich. "I could," Fraser said astounded that this partner was agreeing with him. "Yeh. I've never seen an unhealthy rabbit in Chicago," Ray teased. "All that bouncing around." Fraser sighed. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?" he laughed lightly. "Nah Frase buddy. Ya like yer salads. Me. I'm more of yer burger kinda guy," Ray confirmed finishing his sandwich in two bites. "Understood," Fraser conceded. The partners sat in companionable silence finishing their meal. Ray kept his eyes on the warehouse, occasionally looking up and down the street. "God I hate stake outs," he fidgeted glancing down at his watch. "Only another eight hours to go," he muttered. "I could tell you a story," Fraser offered. "Or we could play a game." "What kinda game?" Ray asked hoping to distract his partner from telling him a story. "Well how about I spy," Fraser proposed. "I spy," Ray sounded incredulous. "Yes. You know I think of something...." Fraser started to say. "Frase," Ray interrupted waving his hand in the air. "I know what I spy is." Ray looked up and down the street. "Jeez Frase. We're sitting in an empty street full of cars, and ya wanna play I spy." "Yes. I can't see anything wrong with that," Fraser replied puzzled. Ray raised his eyebrows. "I spy with my little eye something beginning with C. No don't tell me Frase. I know car," he teased. "Game's gonna be kinda short Frase." "There are other things to spy with your little eye," Fraser persisted. The blonde detective looked up and down the street once again. "Like what Frase? The street's deserted," Ray asked. "Well....," Fraser started to study the street carefully. Ray folded his arms, nodding slowly at his partner a smile forming on his lips. "I take it I'm gonna need my glasses fer this then," he said. At Fraser's puzzled look. "Ya know, I spy with my x-ray vision. Mounties may be able to see through walls, but this Chicago flatfoot just aint Superman." "Well that's just silly Ray. Of course, I can't see through walls," Fraser said with a frown, which turned to a grin as his blonde partner started to laugh. "Well alright. I agree that there is not much to spy in this particular situation." "Thank you kindly," Ray mimicked his partner's prim tone. Fraser considered for a moment. "Let's play word association then. It can be quite enlightening." Ray cast his partner an odd look. Shrugging his shoulders. "OK Frase. Whatever. Ya start," he replied deciding that it was a better option than one of his partner's Inuit stories. He stared out of the windscreen towards the warehouse; still no movement. "Snow," Fraser uttered. "Man," Ray answered immediately. "Man," Fraser looked puzzled. "I thought you would say cold." "Nah. Snow makes me think of building a snowman with a carrot for a nose," Ray grinned. "Didn't ya ever build a snowman Frase?" "No," Fraser said sadly. "My grandparents never encouraged that kind of childish behaviour. They thought it was undignified." "Ohh. Well next time it snows ya, me and Dief are gonna build us a snowman. OK?" Ray said. "With a carrot for a nose." Fraser smiled. "I'd like that. Thank you kindly. Ready for your next word," he asked. Ray nodded. "Quarter." Ray grinned mischievously. "Pounder," he answered. "With fries, ketchup and mayonnaise." "Ray," Fraser scolded. "Cow. And don't say burger." "Cheesecake with lots of cream," Ray responded. Fraser frowned. "How do you get cheesecake from cow Ray?" he asked. "Easy," Ray said looking towards the warehouse again. "Most of the ingredients of cheesecake come from a cow right?" "Ahhh I see," Fraser replied smiling at his partner's connection. "I am beginning to see a pattern emerging." Ray grinned wickedly at the Mountie offering his partner an M&M from the packet he retrieved from the dashboard. "No thank you Ray," Fraser refused staring out of the window deep in thought. Dief whined from the back seat laying his nose on Ray's shoulder silently pleading. Ray stroked his furry head fondly slipping the wolf some of the candy while Fraser was staring out of the window. "Come on Frase. I aint good at waiting," Ray urged finishing the last M&M. Fraser moved his head from side to side. "How about whale," he said convinced that his partner couldn't make a food connection. "Pizza," Ray answered instantly. Fraser wrinkled his brow. "Ray. Whales have nothing to do with pizza." "Don't whales eat pizza Frase?" Ray looked innocently at his partner, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Of course whales don't eat pizza Ray," Fraser admonished. "Oh yeah. It's only Mounties that eat pizza with blubber and lichen toppings," he beamed. Before his partner could protest. "OK. Frase. Now its my turn," Ray announced. His blue eyes flashed with mischief. "Passion." Ray watched as his partner's face flushed a bright red. Fraser shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Avoiding his partner's eyes, Fraser stared out of the windscreen. "Fruit," he answered. "Fruit. That's cheating Frase," Ray protested. "Ya kidding me right?" "I can assure you that is what the word passion conjures up," Fraser insisted his face glowing bright red in the dim light. Ray shook his head in despair, giving his partner a disbelieving look. "At least I haven't got whales eating pizza," Fraser said defensively. "So ya admit whales do eat pizza," Ray shot back. "Oh dear," Fraser was becoming uncharacteristically flustered. "Perhaps we should try another word," he pleaded. "OK. Fire," Ray offered. "Meeting," Fraser answered. "Ya cheating again. Meeting and fire. How come Frase?" Ray asked puzzled. "As you have said, it's easy. I met you amid a spate of fires. Remember, our first case together when you were trying to convince me that you were Ray Vecchio," Fraser explained. "Ohhh yeh. I think I did a good job of convincing ya," Ray gave his partner a lopsided grin. "Bet ya never guessed." "It was extremely difficult to tell you apart from the real Ray Vecchio," Fraser teased. "Lieutenant Welsh had to put me right in the end." "Hardy ha ha. Funny guy," Ray answered. "Shall we continue with the game Ray? Or would you like to hear a story?" Fraser asked hopefully. "Nah. It will make me sleepy," Ray admitted . "Somniferous?" Fraser stated staring out of the windscreen. "Are we still playing the word association thingy? Because if we are, ya win. I haven't a clue what som-what-iferous is," Ray said yawning. "Soporific. Somnolent. Tired. Sleepy," Fraser clarified. "Why didn't ya just say so," Ray sighed glancing sideways at his partner. "Speak English can't ya?" "Ray. I happen to be very proud of the fact that I speak the Queen's English," Fraser protested huffily. "Unlike your relaxed version of the language." "Least I can understand what I'm saying," Ray protested. Fraser opened his mouth to reply, but was silenced by the glare the slender detective gave him. Ray raised his hands in defeat. "OK. OK. I give up. Ya have being dying to tell me a story. So shoot," he conceded. Fraser beamed pleased; he considered for a moment then began to tell his partner a story about his friend Innusiq, his sister June and himself on their first camping trip in the Northwest territories. Ray tried to pay attention, but his eyes started to drift closed. Fraser's voice faded into the background as his slim body relaxed in the seat. "Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray." Fraser nudged his partner lightly in the ribs. Startled Ray opened his eyes, straightening up. "So what happened then?" he asked hoping that Fraser hadn't noticed that he had been asleep. Fraser shot his friend a dirty look, shaking his head in annoyance. "Ray over there. Look," he pointed towards the warehouse. Three men had gathered at the front of the warehouse. The tallest of the three started to open the door, the other two acting as lookouts, warily staring up and down the street. Ray had become alert, and picked up the radio. "Unit 117 requesting back up at Macey and Fourth. Suspects have entered the building," he informed the dispatch. He slid out of his seat, checking that his gun was in place. Fraser and Dief joined him, and the partners quietly made their way across the street towards the warehouse. Signalling Fraser to crouch, they hid behind a large truck. "Now Frase. I've got the gun. Ya have air. No heroics. Understood," he commanded drawing his gun from his shoulder holster. Fraser nodded his agreement, but Ray remained unconvinced. "I mean it Frase. These guys mean business. None of ya usual standing up and announcing ya presence to the world and all of its criminals," he said firmly. "Ray. I do understand English," Fraser whispered haughtily. "OK. OK. Don't go and get all ruffled," Ray answered. "Come on," he motioned Fraser to follow him into the warehouse. The partners crept forwards into the building. Stopping at the sound of voices, they ducked behind a stack of packing crates. Ray carefully peered over the top of the crates. The three men were sitting at a table playing cards; it was obvious they were waiting for someone. "Ray. Over there," Fraser pointed in the direction of a small glass door at the back of the warehouse. Ray squinted, he could see lights through the glass. The lights suddenly dimmed, and there was the sound of car doors slamming. The door opened revealing two men in neat business suits. They walked towards the group of men, the taller man carrying a leather briefcase. Placing the briefcase on the table, the men shook hands. Ray couldn't hear what they were saying and he turned to his partner to ask; Fraser was no where to be seen. Silently cursing his friend, Ray scanned the warehouse for the missing Mountie. "If he stands up, I'm going shoot him myself," he thought angrily. He turned his attention back to the group of men, who were conducting their business transaction efficiently. Ray slowly edged himself forward towards the group of men, his gun drawn. He peered over the top of the crate just as Fraser was pushed out of the shadows by a large man carrying a hand gun, which was pointed at the Mountie's back. "Look what I found hiding back there," the man shoved the Mountie forwards towards the group. "I think he wanted to join our game," the man laughed harshly. The taller man stepped forward. "And who might you be?" he snarled an inch from the Mountie's face. Fraser calmly stared ahead. "My name is Constable Benton Fraser of the RCMP. I first came to Chicago on the trail.....," he started to say. "Shut your mouth," the man barked. Turning to the group. "Pack up. We'll take this show somewhere else." Swinging back to Fraser, he grinned evilly. "I am afraid you can't come with us Constable. You don't know how to play our games." Noticing a movement from behind the man's shoulder. "But I like games," Fraser confessed which earned him a back hand from the man. Wiping at his lip with the back of his hand. "My favourite game is I spy." The man looked at Fraser incredulous. "What?" he spluttered. "I spy with my little eye something beginning with P," Fraser said calmly as Ray jumped up on the packing case, his gun aimed at the group. "Chicago P.D. Twitch, and I will fill ya all full of holes," Ray yelled jumping smoothly to the floor. Fraser hit his captor hard in the stomach. As the man bent double in pain, Fraser brought his hand down on the back on his head; the man hit the floor unconscious. Fraser grabbed for his gun. One of the group went for his gun, but was flattened to the floor by Dief, who hurled himself at the man growling nastily, his bared teeth inches from the man's face. "Guns over here now," Ray shouted motioning with his free hand. Reluctantly, the group slid their guns towards the blonde detective. "On the floor now," Ray carefully moved closer. "I said now," he pushed the nearest man to the floor, and had him quickly handcuffed. He lifted his head as he heard the sound of sirens in the distance. Fraser helped his partner handcuff the rest of the group, and moved to his partner's side handing him the retrieved gun. Ray snatched the gun away glaring at his partner. "Just what the hell did ya think ya were doing?" he said angrily. "Ray. Calm down. I promised you that I wouldn't stand up. I was trying to get around behind the suspects, and I didn't hear him come up behind me. In effect, I was captured," Fraser confessed sheepishly. Ray's reply was interrupted by members of the 27th and 18th precincts bursting into the warehouse, guns drawn. Half an hour later, the group of men had been loaded into police cars, and the warehouse sealed for forensic examination. Lieutenant Welsh waved the last car off; he moved over to the partners. "Good work you two. Now both of you go home and get some sleep," he walked towards his own car. "Vecchio, I want the report on my desk by tomorrow lunch time." "Yes sir," Ray answered ambling towards the GTO, Dief close at his heels. Fraser followed quietly behind. He could tell that his partner was still angry with him. Ray unlocked the door, opening the passenger door for Fraser. Dief leapt into the back seat. Ray rested his head on the steering wheel. With a sigh, he glanced sideways at his partner; Fraser was sitting silently staring ahead, his fingers fiddling with the brim of his stetson. "Frase. One of these days, ya gonna get yer head blown off," Ray muttered. "Then who would tell me off for my bad eating habits, or play I spy with me on stake outs?" "I am really sorry Ray. But on this occasion, I was captured," Fraser admitted. Ray smiled thinly. "Wow go figure. The Mountie was captured. Must be a first," he tormented. "Well there's no need to be so triumphant about it," Fraser said huffily. "It could happen to anyone." "Say Frase. What did the P stand fer?" Ray asked curious. Fraser grinned. "Why pizza of course Ray." Ray frowned. "How do ya get pizza and me arriving to save yer skinny ass," he asked. "Well Ray. When I think of you. I think of pizza. All showy on the top, and soft underneath with a crispy crust," Fraser explained. "I think I'm gonna have to kick ya in the head one of these days," Ray smiled and turned the ignition key gunning the GTO forward into the early morning traffic. "I spy with my little eye....," Fraser began to say. "Frase," Ray threatened. "Understood." THE END