by Viridian5
Author's Website: http://www.mrks.org/~viridian
Disclaimer: All things *due South* belong to Alliance no matter how much I want Ray K to belong to me. No infringement intended. Suing me would be a waste of time. Besides, I'd just kick you in the head.
Author's Notes: Read-through by Kass and LaT.
Story Notes: SPOILERS: Itty, bitty one for "Asylum."
NOTES: Inspired by coming home at 2:30 a.m. from my show.
The song in my head has dark lyrics that have nothing to do with this fic, so all you need to know is that I had the music to Depeche Mode's "Dream On" along with the refrain of "Can you feel a little love?" running through my brain as I wrote this story. It was playing as I parked my car that night.
"Denouement"
By Viridian5
"Something bothering you, Fraser?"
Fraser realized that he was staring intently at his hot dog as if it held the answer to alleviating his moodiness. "Not at all. I'm fine."
"Uh-huh."
Fraser could see how his "hmm" might bother Ray, since Ray's "uh-huh," pronounced with that tone, annoyed him. "Truly." Why worry Ray when Ray couldn't do anything to help him?
"Okay. Hey, hypothetically speaking and all, is there anything you could use right now for optimal crimefighting?"
"Not at all."
"Hmm."
Ray could have been more subtle. Fraser retaliated with: "A small town in the Territories once found itself unwilling home to a wolf who seemed as unhappy to be there as they were to have him." At Dief's aggrieved whine, Fraser said, "Perhaps they were narrow-minded, but he did kill some of their livestock. This wolf seemed to dislike all the people and noise of the town but, for whatever reason, didn't leave. The citizens eventually conjectured that he was exiled from his pack."
Ray waited quietly for awhile, but when Fraser said nothing further, Ray asked, "And?"
"'And'?"
"Then what? Did they drive him off? Did they adopt him? Did his pack ever take him back? Did he find a way to deal with the town and maybe come to like it?"
Fraser hadn't thought that far ahead on his analogy. "There's nothing more to the story. That's the way it ends."
"No way. That's it? That's a story?"
"It is indeed."
"Ya know, I think I get the reason why yer stories fall flat."
"They do not 'fall flat.'"
"Sure they do. Yer not following the parts right. There's supposed to be a beginning, rising action, climax, and... and-- Damn." Seated, Ray seemed to be trying to work his frustration out through his moving fingers. Even the fingers holding his hot dog tapped out their dissatisfaction against the bun.
"Do you mean--"
"No, I know this. Word's like the actress, like Catherine Deneu--" Ray snapped his fingers. The ones not holding his lunch, fortunately. "Denouement."
To cover his surprised pleasure, Fraser said, "Your French accent is terrible."
"Nah, it's perfect for my dialect of Chicago flatfoot French. Anyway, yer stories don't have any denouement. Hell, sometimes they don't even have a climax." Ray smirked. "Or rising action--"
"My stories are meant to be informative, not entertaining."
"That explains a lot."
"Diefenbaker likes my stories."
"Dief's deaf, and he probably doesn't watch yer lips when you launch into one." Dief barked immediately after Ray's assertion. "See?"
At least annoyance drove the melancholy away for a while. "Really, Ray. That wasn't agreement."
"Then what did he say?"
Something very like what Ray had thought Dief had said. "That's not any of your business."
"Oh, don't get huffy. I get yer stories." Ray licked a bit of golden mustard off his lower lip.
Fraser could smell the heavy spice of it. "Really."
"Yep. And I get y--" Ray picked up his cell phone. "Vecchio. Yes, sir. Coming in." Ray put the phone back on his belt. "They just hit another bank. Welsh wants us back now, so we're doing a mobile lunch."
Stakeouts always gave Fraser too much time to think. Ray remained his imminently distracting self, but not even his warmth, scent, and running commentary could keep the clouds of melancholy away. How could he, when he could be seen as part and parcel of the very thing troubling Fraser?
Ray yawned, a full, gaping face yawn like a cat did, remembering to cover his mouth almost at the last second. "Sorry. Our relief's walking up, if you can call Huey and Dewey 'relief.'"
Soon Fraser would be in his bed at the consulate. Sleep might provide a relief. He felt heavy with the weight of days dragging at his body.
For once Ray didn't snipe with Dewey as the shift changed, simply relinquished the nondescript car he and Fraser had spent the last seven hours in. It made Fraser worry. But as they walked five blocks to retrieve Ray's GTO, Ray asked, "You got anything to do now?"
"Pardon?"
"It's consulate and then bed, right? No other plans?" Even Ray spoke in a whisper, the deserted nighttime streets hushing him as well.
"Ray, it's two o'clock in the morning."
"Yeah." Ray shoved his gloved hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. "So, do ya?"
"I have no plans."
"And tomorrow's yer day off, right?"
"Yes. Ray, what are you trying to get at?"
"I was thinking back to our conversation."
Sometimes Fraser really wished that Ray came with annotation. "Conversation?"
"Our hot dog conversation two days ago."
It took Fraser a moment to remember what they'd said, but he still didn't see the connection. "And?"
"People and noise and having nowhere to go and all. Well, I have somewhere I wanna take you, if you'll let me."
Fraser thought of being stoic. He thought of saying that Ray had read more into the story than was there. Instead, he said, "As you wish." Turnbull was taking care of Diefenbaker, so why not?
Ray grinned, swinging his keyring around his finger. Streetlight gleamed off the metal. "Love yer Dread Pirate Wesley impression. Let's hit the road."
As soon as they strapped their belts on Ray asked, "Open the window, would ya?"
"Won't you find it too chilly?"
"I'll be good. Roll that bad boy down." Ray pulled out of their spot as Fraser did so.
Wonder of wonders, Ray obeyed the speed limit and every red light despite the deserted nature of the streets allowing Fraser to enjoy the hush that had fallen over the city and the cold, invigorating breeze without distractions. Fraser could actually hear the lights change. As they left the warehouse section, he started to smell a teasing hint of sweet green. He absorbed the sight of the night-dark yet streetlight-bright vistas they passed by, all of them somehow made at once softer-focused and clearer by the time of day at which they were being seen. He almost felt an odd camaraderie with the few other people riding the road.
But as much as he was enjoying the ride, his curiosity finally overwhelmed him, and he asked, "Are we there yet?"
Ray cackled. "Oh man, I just had this moment where I felt like my dad." Despite the fatigue etched into his face, he looked almost peaceful. "We're here."
"We're not stopping."
Ray shook his head. "Where we are, what we're doing right now, is our, uhm, destination. I know you walk at night, but yer walking Dief or heading somewhere or tracking somebody down. Doing something or concentrated on a goal. When you have yer mind somewhere else, yer not looking at what's around you. Right now we're just here, being. In the moment. It's city, but not city as you usually know it. We have yer hush and wide open spaces right here. What do you think?"
Fraser smiled at the thoughtfulness. Ray had alleviated two out of three, though not even Ray could do anything for Fraser's longing for his own kind. "I think that I like it."
"Cool. Would I disturb yer quiet too much if I turned the radio on low? Being in a car at night is one of the best ways to listen to music."
"I wouldn't mind at all. But aren't you cold, Ray?"
Ray shrugged. "Sure. But do I look unhappy to you?"
"No." In fact, Ray was smiling, looking invigorated himself.
"Then keep the window down a bit."
They drove for a while like that, with the rush of the wind on one side of Fraser's head and the muted sounds of the radio on the other. The music sounded crisper, clearer, and more stereophonic without daytime distractions. Smiling, swaying in his seat to the rhythm, Ray let him enjoy the night in companionable silence. Fraser would have been far more distracted if Ray didn't move, since Ray often drove with his whole body, rocking in his seat to try to look around cars in front of him in traffic, lightly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to songs from the radio or inside his own head.
Eventually: "Hey, Fraser, I'm hungry. How 'bout you?"
"I am, now that you've mentioned it."
"I am not taking responsibility for you being hungry. Nope."
They ended up in an all-night diner with a bowl of chili each. "But, Ray, I should check in with the consulate."
"Got you covered. Hold on." Ray dialed on his cell phone, waited, then said, "Hey, it's Ray. I've got Fraser, and I'm not giving him back until tomorrow. Uh, today, actually. You'll see him later," and hung up.
"Ray."
Ray just smirked and lifted his spoon. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Eat up."
In the delirium of fatigue and the late hour, Fraser couldn't remember much of what they'd said to one another while they ate, but he remembered enjoying himself and his food and smiling as Ray discussed what he called "the tao of chili." The image of Ray, hand propping up his chin, sitting across from Fraser, listening intently, and drowning crackers in his chili until he had no liquid left, only beans, meat, and cracker paste, remained etched in Fraser's mind. Ray's black leather gloves had been lying atop one another on the table beside the bowl, while the diner's faded yellow light had added some color to his tired face. He'd looked too tired, the shadows beneath his eyes too deep, for it to be from the delayed rest of only one night.
Then they sat in the car again, and Ray rubbed his eyes. "Good food, but I'm dead beat now. Time to call it a night. You can come home with me."
"You can leave me at the consulate just as easily."
"You need a change of scene."
"I do?"
"Yep."
True. Why not, then? "Then I'll go home with you."
Ray looked surprised, perhaps by Fraser's quick surrender, then smiled. "Coolness."
After they trudged up to Ray's apartment, it took five minutes for Ray to figure out how to unlock his door. He took Fraser by the arm and led him to the bedroom.
"I can sleep on the couch."
"No, you can't."
"You're being quite difficult."
"I'm taking a page from your book and being difficult for your own good. Now you can take the uniform off so you won't rumple it. I know you have five layers of clothing on under it anyway. And don't give me that modesty thing, because you were throwing off your uniform with this big smile on yer face when you hid those files in yer pants."
"It was purely practical."
"The grin and that liplick you did was practical too? I haven't had anyone strip that enthusiastically for me in... well, ever. Please don't hang up my coat."
"It will rumple otherwise."
"Then it'll match the rest of my clothes." Ray started to strip, as if to get Fraser started. "I'm not doing the full Monty and you don't have to do the full Mountie. Just enough to be comfortable."
With Ray in boxers, socks, and an undershirt, it was only polite for Fraser to at least take off his uniform, leaving him in his long johns. Ray wore far less than did.
That didn't help.
But Ray had already crawled under his covers, showing only a shivering tuft of blond hair. Fraser hung his uniform in the closet, then joined him.
Ray's warmth and scent surrounded him now, then Ray followed suit, snuggling up. Fraser told himself that Ray was simply tired and reacting with the instincts of a formerly married man. Some part of Ray's brain expected Stella and nuzzled up accordingly.
"You sure do make a nice electric blanket, Fraser," Ray murmured, shattering that theory.
So Ray could be turning to him for warmth. But Fraser had done that himself before in the Territories, and this felt different. Less about necessity and more about... inclination. Liking.
Attraction?
Greatly daring, Fraser said, "This isn't something friends would do."
"That's right."
"Oh."
"Is that a problem?"
Was it? "No."
"Good." Ray snuggled in closer and fell asleep. That simply.
Maybe Ray could provide three out of three.
Luxuriating in the quiet, warmth, and intimacy, nuzzling blond hair that smelled like the night wind, Fraser soon followed.
**THE END**
More Viridian5 stories can be found in The Green Room version 2.0 at http://www.mrks.org/~viridian/
No-frames but no-frills access available at http://www.mrks.org/~viridian/Viridian_side.htm
Fandoms represented: due South, Hard Core Logo, Twitch City, X-Files, Once a Thief, the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie, Angel, Two Guys and a Girl (was Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place), X-Men, Doctor Who, Fight Club, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine