Story Notes: AU, based on Jim Butcher's DRESDEN FILES

Haunted By Sam80853

I scuffle up the stairs to my office in midtown Chicago. I'm cranky as hell at this time of day and you can call yourself lucky if you're not my first client this morning. Before I've had my cup of coffee anyway. My name is Stanley Raymond Kowalski, at least as far as you will ever hear it from my lips cuz tellin' someone your name is powerful magic, and I'm a practicing professional wizard. Believe it or not but you can find me in the yellow pages under "wizard". I'm the only one there.

My whole body screams for caffeine when I open up my office door and I relax immediately as the scent of freshly brewed coffee gets to my nose.

Frannie, thank God.

You're probably thinking why that stupid con doesn't drink his cup as soon as he gets out of bed if he needs it this much. But I have to tell you that isn't as easy as it sounds. Sure I know how to make coffee but I can't do it myself. You know, anything manufactured after the forties gets kinda funky around me, so no coffee machines, computers, elevators, radios or TVs. Which kinda sucks, cuz I used to love hockey.

I went to a sports bar once and almost got lynched, cuz after a second all the TVs stopped working and since I'm known for what I am, or at least claim to be... you can imagine, I guess.

"Ray," my assistant Francesca Vecchio greets me and pushes a cup into my hands just to hustle me towards my own office to get me out of her room and away from the sensitive equipment. "I put your sweets on your desk."

The doors almost slams into my face but I don't care; I have my coffee now and my M&M's which I drop into my cup.

"Thanks, Frannie!" I scream through the closed door and take a seat behind my desk. Papers, orderly sorted are lying in front of me. Bills, I guess and sigh.

Being the only practicing wizard in town, in the whole county even, should provide me with enough money to survive but it doesn't. Why Frannie is still here, I dunno cuz I can barely pay her and it sure as hell isn't for my charm either. Most people don't believe in magic or in vampires and werewolves for that matter. I say most cuz there are a few who have to deal with vampire attacks, troll mauraudings, faery abductions of children and all that shit the mysterious world throws at us humans and that's where I get my money from.

I'm working as a paid consultant for Special Investigations of the Chicago Police Department, led by Harding Welsh who's the only one who believes in my power.

Not that I want people to know how much power I really have but it would be kinda nice to be appreciated and not looked at like I'm a freak or some fortune-teller who just wants your money.

I hear the office door opening and Frannie almost stumbling over her own two feet - she gets that way when a good-looking man comes along - which usually doesn't happen here.

"Hi, I'm Francesca Vecchio. How can I be of help?"

Ha, at least she remembers her manners.

I can hear a gentle, deep voice asking for a minute of my time and my stomach starts growling cuz I haven't eaten yet and that guy out there, whoever he may be, is hopefully providing me with the money I need to not starve to death. Frannie opens my door, her eyes shining like she's just won the lottery and wouldn't have to work for me ever again.

"There is someone who wants to see you, Ray."

I grin.

"I got it."

She turns around to wave the stranger in, and call me old-fashioned or something, but seeing someone hurt got to me like nobody's business.

Calling my visitor hurt would be the understatement of the year cuz this guy is barely holding himself upright, not to mention the bruises and scratches all over his face. He looks like he had a date with a baseball bat, a baseball bat with claws.

My first reaction is to grab him and push him down on one of my chairs but considering my rustic furniture it's probably a good thing that I take a closer look at his face instead and see the message screaming not to come closer or to touch.

I'm taken aback by his lost grey-blue eyes with which he's looking at me like he doesn't know better than not to make eye contact with a wizard.

When I look into someone's eyes, into their soul, they see mine in return - the things I've done, the things I'm willing to do, the things I'm capable of doing.

I have no intention of showing my innermost being to this guy, cuz whatever I'm going to see in return, I'll never forget - that's how this thing works.

"You read the sign, right?"

"Ray!" Frannie hisses with a protesting voice for my rudeness but I have no time to deal with a case of harassment or domestic violence.

"Yes, I did," he says calmly and I wait, looking at his chest to avoid his eyes.

"Ray Kowalski - Wizard Lost Items Found. Paranormal Investigations. Consulting. Advice. Reasonable Rates. No Love Potions, Endless Purses, Parties, or Other Entertainment," he recites, still looking at me.

I crack my neck.

"Okay. Just checking."

"Understandable."

"Can I get you something?", Frannie asks, being the helpful assistant that she is. "Coffee? Tea?"

"No, thank you kindly," he declines, still looking at me, which starts to freak me out. "I'm sorry, I did not introduce myself," he says and stretches out his hand. "My name is Benton Fraser and I came to Chicago on the trail of..." He stops dead and his gaze becomes even more lost. "Never mind," he whispers.

I grab his hand, just to prevent him from crashing down in front of me and all the air is pressed out of my lungs.

He's pouring off black magic!

"Ray!" I hear Frannie scream and Fraser's apology but I'm only able to stumble backwards.

I wasn't prepared for this. If I had known what I was dealing with here I could have protected myself but instead my whole body trembles, is flooded with black magic.

I get hold of my blasting rod, focusing my energy, my power, to get control over my body again.

Magic always comes from inside yourself. Whatever you're trying to do, you have to visualize it, believe in it to make it work. So I reach inside myself to get a grip on my power and send it through the blasting rod back into my attacked body to get rid of the black magic.

After a few seconds, breathing becomes slowly easier and I'm aware of my surroundings again.

"Ray! Ray! Ray!" I can hear Fraser calling my name and how the hell does he know that I go by my middle name anyway? Ah, the door probably. Get a grip, Kowalski!

"I'm okay," I'm finally able to say, looking up into two pairs of worried eyes. Great, I scared them to death, good impression, wizard!

"You scared the hell out of me, Ray," Frannie confirms my worries.

"I'm truly sorry," Fraser says, standing by the door, hands behind his back - as far away as possible from me. "If I had known what impact it would have on you, I would never have touched you. It never happened before, I can assure you."

"You never touched a wizard before."

"You're quite right."

"So, what happened to you anyway?" The influence of the black magic is just a shadow in the back of my mind by now and I'm gettin' curious about what happened to the man who doesn't seem to be the type to go running around attacking wizards. Fraser looks at Frannie who turns on her heels and walks out of my office, mumbling something about knowing her place.

"I was attacked." Fraser says as soon as the door is closed behind her.

A grin spreads over my face, there you go, buddy.

"You tend to state the obvious?"

He blushes a little and rubs his eyebrow.

"By who?"

"By whom," he corrects me. "A woman."

"You got attacked by a woman?"

"Yes. A dead woman actually."

Ah, a dead woman. That's were the black magic comes in. As I'm starting to ask some more questions my phone rings and without thinking I pick it up.

"Kowalski!"

"It's Welsh, Kowalski. I need your help."

Harding Welsh always gets to the point right away, no beating around the bush or anything. You always know where you stand with him and that's what I like about him.

"Where do I have to be, Lieutenant?" Out of the corner of my eyes I can see Fraser reacting to my phone call. He seems to step back, back from me, my help.

I start worrying about that but am too busy writing down an address to do anything about it right now.

"How bad is it?"

"Bad," and if Welsh says bad than it is real bad.

"I'll be there in 20, okay?"

I hang up in time to see Fraser reaching for the door knob.

"Hey, where are you going?"

He turns slowly.

"I see, you have more important business to deal with," he rubs his eyebrow again, seems to be a nervous tick with him.

"Says who?"

"I didn't intend to eavesdrop on your private phone call but it doesn't escape me that you have an appointment with the local law enforcement."

"I have," I nod my head patiently.

"It surely is more important than my... situation."

Ah, so he steps back for the greater good or something? Odd.

"Tell you what," I grab another piece of paper and write an address down. "Meet me at McAnally's around 2 p.m., 'kay?"

He looks uncertain for a second and I'm prepared to do some more convincing when he finally reaches for the paper.

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Kowalski."

"Ray," I say and smile at him.

"Ray," he nods his head, not offering his first name in return but I can live with that. For now.

"See you at 2," I call when he steps out of my door and he turns, a small smile around his bruised lips.

"Certainly."

With that my door shuts and I start wondering what I got myself into. I mean, not that I have a bad feeling about that Fraser-guy except for the rough start of course but something about him makes me kinda nervous. But, pitter patter, I have a business to run.

I'm half out of my seat when Frannie returns and I really have no time for her interrogation about the good-looking guy who just left my office.

"Sorry, Fran," I run to the door. "Got a call from Welsh. Don't expect me back for noon."

"But Ray...," I hear her protesting voice while I'm running down the stairs.

~::~::~

As I get to the crime scene, the show is already on the road. The crowd is pushing to get a better view and the local reporters and TV stations are throwing questions at any police officer in sight.

Great! Just what I need right now.

"Kowalski!" I hear someone calling my name and the hairs at the back of my neck stand on edge.

"Greatness," I curse as I turn, looking at Detective Thomas Dewey, one of Welsh's men but one who's not as open-minded as his boss.

"Hey, Tom," I greet him with a fake smile.

He looks at me, his disgust for me palpable.

"Welsh told me you were coming," he mumbles, not making a secret of what he thinks of me. Not even police officers at SI are willing to believe in magic and stuff like that. It just isn't convenient.

"What happened?"

"The Lieu is gonna tell you." He gets me through the crowd and into the building, to the elevators.

"Ah. Dewey, you know I can't..." I point at the elevator doors.

"It's the fuckin' penthouse."

"I'm sorry." I'm not, really and he knows it.

"Shit!" If he didn't hate me already, he would now.

So we climb up the stairs and Dewey gets winded after the 5th floor, sweating and groaning.

"You could haven taken the lift, you know." I sweetly smile at him.

"Like hell," he curses and pushes forward.

After what seems like hours we reach the 21st floor. I open up the door and the smell immediately hits me, makes me stumble back a little.

Blood.

Blood smells a certain way, a kind of sticky, almost metallic odor and the air is full of it. My stomach turns.

"You alright?" Dewey asks, not caring a bit if I'm gonna vomit or faint.

"Yeah, I'm great. Greatness!"

"Thought so."

Dewey leads me to a door on the left side.

"Wait."

"Whatever you say, Detective." He enters the room, leaving me behind and I take a look around.

Everything looks very expensive. The carpet beneath my feet is thick and soft, wood paneling on the ceiling - but all of this is just substance, not something that protects you or makes you feel warm inside.

I just start thinking about Fraser as Welsh opens the door, looking me up and down.

"You look like shit, Kowalski."

"Thanks."

"You gonna be alright?" he asks, knowing how much I hate the smell of blood and death.

"Yeah." I nod.

"Okay." He holds the door for me and I step in.

The smell of blood is even stronger in here and my stomach is really unhappy about it but I keep going, following Welsh, cuz as much as I can smell death I don't see a corpse.

"It's bad, Kowalski," Welsh whispers as he steps back, giving me a good view of the room behind him, the bedroom. Horrible!

I try not to breathe, cuz any more of that smell is going to make me lose it for real. It takes all of my self-control to force myself to look and I take in the details quickly. Unmade bed. The victim, male, lying on his back, eyes slightly open, short brown hair, handsome if you overlook the bruises and scratches all over his face. His ribcage is burst open, blood all over the sheets... I close my eyes, swallowing. I've seen enough and I hurry out of the door into another room which I hope is the bathroom.

It is and I throw up into the washstand, heaving heavily.

Humans.

I get back to the other room. Welsh and Dewey discuss some things I can't understand while the CSI team is already doing its job of collecting evidence.

My eyes are fixed on them, not the body or the blood, just on the men and woman doing their jobs to catch a murderer.

"Kowalski?" I feel Welsh's hand on my back, gently leading me away.

As soon as the door shuts behind us I'm able to breathe again.

"You need a minute?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"I can see that." Welsh smiles sympathetically.

"You were right to call me," I say.

He just nods his head, waiting.

"His ribcage was ripped open from the inside, not an easy thing to do," I swallow. "She must have known him."

"She?"

"Yeah, I think it was a woman. This," I point at the closed door, "was an act of hatred and women are just better at focusing their hate. Maybe a lover or a spouse."

"How?"

"I dunno," I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know what's needed to make a body explode like that." I'm not even sure that I wanna know. "Who was he by the way?"

"Name is Michael Thatcher, known as the Snowman - cold as ice in business and in his private life. You know, good looks, old money."

"What's with the injuries on his face? They weren't fresh."

"He filed charges a few weeks ago, claimed to be attacked in his sleep...,"

~::~::~

I make it in time to McAnally's, a pub a few blocks from my office.

This establishment is a place of my liking. No TV, computer games or even a jukebox and the owner, Mac, is used to me and the problems that come with me.

But Mac isn't here, serving his home-made beer, ale really, but his cousin from the north, Turnbull, who I think must have been hit by dumpster as a kid, but who am I to judge anybody.

"Good evening, wizard Ray," he greets me with a silly grin upon his face, already tapping a beer for me.

"Hey there, Ren," I take a seat at the bar, looking around for Fraser.

"I see you're waiting for someone," Turnbull looks around as well, as if he'd know who I'm looking for. "Do I know the fellow?"

"Nope," I take a sip. "Just a new client, at least that's what I thought."

"Ah, I see," he says and I wonder what he means by that. "If he is in need of your help, he will show, wizard Ray."

You have to give the guy credit for his positive attitude.

"Thanks, Ren." I grab my beer and walk to a table near the window and the door.

I shouldn't think about Fraser when it's not likely that he'll show at all but with a little distance I'm able to remember details about him. I mean I pay attention to people, that's what I do, but usually the obvious strikes me later. The way he held himself upright, obviously hurt all over his body - most people would whine about their injuries but Fraser almost seemed to be embarrassed. Maybe it's the fact that a woman had hurt him. I wonder if he even tried to protect himself against her attacks. Not that you can do much about a ghost attack anyway, but was he willing to try? There has to be a connection between Fraser and that woman, otherwise she wouldn't be able to hurt him. It's just a thin line between life and death but a line none-the-less and if she's able to cross that line, to haunt him beyond her grave, there has to be a real strong connection.

I'm lost in thought as someone must have entered the pub, cuz suddenly the voices around me get barely audible and the air gets heavy with black magic.

My head comes up in time to see Fraser approaching Turnbull, obviously asking about my whereabouts. He turns in my direction as Turnbull points at me, still wearing that faded flannel shirt, tight blue jeans, hiking boots and that weird hat I have to ask him about.

I smile at him and wave him closer.

"I'm really sorry for wasting your time, Ray," he apologizes as he carefully sits down.

"Never mind."

"It's inexcusable, really," he insists and my smile gets broader. I definitely have a feeling that we'll get along pretty well.

Just at this moment my stomach decides to growl for some attention, embarrassing really, and Fraser looks first at me, then at that wood-burning stove.

"The least I can do is to buy you dinner," he says and waves for Turnbull and the menu.

If I weren't so hungry and broke, I would refuse but I have no power or dignity left.

"Okay, thanks."

"You're welcome."

I'm at McAnally's on a regular basis and I can tell you that everything on the menu is good, so as soon as I get my dinner I wolf it down while Fraser smiles and eats, a lot more civilized than I just did.

"Thanks buddy, that was great."

"I'm glad." He looks around. "It's a fine place, Ray. Do you come here often?"

"Yeah, I do. When I get paid." No sense in hiding the fact that I'm almost always broke.

"Ah, I understand," he sighs. "Business it is then."

"No, look," I reach for him but get hold of myself in time. "I'm sorry, that was rude."

"I understand, Ray. Really."

There is pain written all over his face for a second before it goes totally blank. It gives me the creeps to seeing him doing that.

"Look," my voice is gentle and patient, a thing I'm not known for being. "I have to know what's going on, to be able to help you."

He nods his head but doesn't talk.

"Who was she?"

His mask breaks down again and I can see and feel his pain. This guy was burned pretty badly and hell do I know the feeling.

"My wife's name was Stella..." I chuckle, I mean Stanley Kowalski and his Stella - it should have told me something right there.

"Ray!"

"No, it's okay," I tell him.

Maybe if I show him my scars he'll show me his.

"I met her when I was twelve and she thought it was cool to be with someone... different. Not that I had much power then but enough to make me an outsider. As a teenager it was hardly interesting for her and as a grown-up, as my wife, she started to hate my gift." I squirm around in my seat. "You know, it isn't easy to live with someone like me, all spartan and stuff. I don't blame her. She wanted a nice home and some kids running around the backyard but as a wizard it's hard enough to have a wife, someone close to become a target, a weak spot, so kids were out of the question." I smile thinking about my Stella in the old days. "She lives in California now, married to a real nice guy, two kids..."

"Her name was Victoria," Fraser starts suddenly, looking down on his hands. "She and two men robbed a bank in Alaska. One of them died, one of them fled south and she came across the border in a light airplane. It was forced down because of bad weather. The pilot abandoned her. I tracked her to a place called Fortitude Pass. A storm had been blowing for days and by the time I found her, I'd lost everything: my pack, my supplies. She was huddled in a crag on the lee side of a mountain, almost frozen, very near death. So I staked a lean-to with my rifle and draped my coat around it and I held on to her whilst the storm closed in around us. I kept talking to her to keep her from slipping away from me. It snowed for a day and a night and a day and when I couldn't talk anymore I put her fingers in my mouth to keep them warm. I don't remember losing consciousness but I do remember being aware that I was dying. And then I heard her voice... she was reciting a poem over and over... I couldn't make out the words but I couldn't stop listening, she had the most beautiful voice..." His voice breaks. "It was as though I had known her forever, across a thousand life-times... The storm finally broke and we were alive. After a day we found my pack and we ate everything I had in one meal. And it took us four days to reach the nearest outpost. We camped that night just outside the town in sight of the church steeple and I held her in my arms and she asked me to let her go. And I did," he sighs deeply. "My father came to Chicago in pursuit of her, trying to do what I couldn't. She killed him... She's the only woman I ever loved and she killed my father."

"And your father was?" I know he's hurt but I have to know this stuff.

"Robert Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, like myself..."

Ah, the hat. I get it now.

"He tracked her down but he obviously miscalculated the situation, not knowing how desperate she was, what she was capable of doing to get away." Guilt is written all over his face now. "We both didn't know her at all," he's looking at me now.

"A week! How well can you get to know a person within a week?"

"Fraser!"

"So, finally - too late - I realized where my responsibilities lay and I came to Chicago to bring her to justice but I failed. I failed her, my father and myself. She got killed in crossfire, with me standing by the side, unable to do anything. She hated me by then, I could see it in her eyes. She cursed me as she died but I thought nothing of it." He runs his hand over his bruised face. "I was obviously wrong."

I remember asking myself if he'd defended himself? Scratch that! He didn't! That freak thinks he deserves what he got here!

"Fraser!"

He isn't finished yet, with punishing himself.

"I judged poorly and lost my father and... my child!"

Damn!

"I'm sorry," I whisper, taken aback by the pain that's pouring off his body.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he says and I'm ready to pop him one cuz he's too hard on himself, when she is the one to blame. I'm barely able to hold myself together so that I almost miss his whispered plea.

"Can you help me, please?"

I'm broken! I really am, cuz I've got an idea of how hard it is for him to ask for help.

"I will."

"Thank you!"

"C'mon, let's get out of here," I rise from my seat, waving him to follow me.

On our way out Turnbull hands me a doggy bag with a grunt of "Dief".

"My place," I say to Fraser. "I got to make some potion."

"Potion, Ray? I thought you..."

"Keep your pants on, will ya!" I smile at him. "It's a potion to get rid of all that magic that's already inside your body so you can actually reach for me if you have to and not make my head spin." As if he didn't manage that just fine even without touching me.

"Ah, I understand."

We're walking side by side, chatting like old buddies.

"How long has this been going on anyway?"

"Victoria has been dead for 5 months now."

"5 months?" I turn to him, not believing that he waited this long to come to me for help. But my angry remark is stopped by his sad eyes. "No wonder you're pouring off bad vibes like that," I say instead.

"I'm sorry."

My next words get stopped as something comes at me from the right, almost knocking me off my feet.

"Ray!"

"Dief!" I yell. "Get off me!" I push that huge white furball off me and get a hold of him before he can reach the doggy bag.

Disappointed he turns to Fraser, looking at him doubtfully but licks his hands anyway.

Fraser smiles relieved.

"So, the doggy bag is for him?"

"Ha, he wishes," I say, claiming down the stairs to my basement apartment. "He can hunt his own foot, he is half wolf."

"Hunt, Ray? We're in a city and he's not a cat."

"So he has told me on many occasions," I grin like a fool. "He also told me that he's deaf, which I don't believe for one second."

"You really think your half-wolf is a cat, Ray?"

"You think that's crazy?" I ask while I unlock the door.

"Not in the least," Fraser says with something like joy in his voice.

Leave it to me to get some depressed guy to loosen up a bit.

My apartment is a studio with a kitchenette on one side and a fire place at the other, one door that leads to my bed-and bathroom. Spartan, like I said.

I don't take chances with the lights or even the gas heater, so I get the fire going and light a lamp.

"Sit down," I say to Fraser who's standing in the middle of my room, looking around. "It isn't much but you know...," I shrug my shoulders.

"It's nice. I like the fire-place."

"Okay, get comfortable while I do some... stuff."

"Thank you!" Fraser says, finally sitting down with Dief beside him and as I walk to the hinged door in the floor to the subbasement I can hear him talking to the wolf.

Freak!

I go down into the lab, carrying a candle.

The small light reveals a long table, some shelves crowded with empty cages, boxes, Tupperware, jars, cans, containers of all descriptions, a couple of fur pelts, musty old books and a bleached white human skull.

"Bob!" I call while I get some things from the shelves. "C'mon guy, wake up already!"

A pair of lights came up in the empty sockets of the skull, orange-ish, flickering like candle flames.

"What do you want from me, Ray? Ain't you wizard enough to handle anything by yourself?"

"Stop whining! We have work to do, pitter patter."

Bob isn't really a human skull, he's a spirit of the air - sort of like a faerie. He made his residence inside the skull that had been prepared for him several hundred years ago, and it was his job to remember things. Since I can't use a computer to gather information, he's the one I come to when I need help.

"You got someone up there, Ray?" He asks, kinda looking up the stairs.

"Yeah, I do."

"A woman?" Did I mentioned that Bob is obsessed with sex?

"A man."

"You have a man up there, Ray? Is he pretty?"

I glare at the skull.

"Stop that! He's someone who needs our help, so c'mon, lets make a potion."

"What kind of potion does our pretty boy need?"

"Bob!" I hiss. "Get your mind out of the gutter and help already."

"A potion, you said."

"Yeah, he's been attacked by a ghost for over 5 months and is giving off bad vibes. Made my head spin when he touched me."

"You alright, Ray?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"You know, Ray, we can always make two potions," and he's right about that, cuz mixing up is largely stirring, simmering and waiting.

"No, Bob!"

"Okay, okay. I was just thinking that you could get laid by..."

"Bob, I swear I'll pop you in your skull if you don't come up with some useful information right about now."

"We need motor oil, cinnamon gum...", Bob lists eight ingredient - all potions are made pretty much the same way; a base to form the essential liquid content, then something to engage each of the senses, and then something for the mind and something else for the spirit - which I get down from the shelves, mixing them together.

"Gah, that smells really bad."

"It's not an aphrodisiac, Ray."

I just nod my head, concentrating, cuz it isn't just the physical ingredients that are important but the meaning they carry.

This has to be a potion to protect someone, to give shelter so I reach inside myself, gathering up my love and my will to protect, all the good inside of me and throw it all out in one sudden rush.

"Very well done, Ray," Bob compliments while I'm a little weak in the knees for a moment.

"Thanks."

I stumble up the stairs again, potion in hand, only to find Fraser sleeping on my couch with Dief's head in his lap. The poor guy surely hasn't slept much over the last months, always afraid of being attacked again, cuz ghosts like the one that's haunting him are strongest at night when the human mind is weakest and defenseless in sleep. I hate to wake him up, cuz I kinda feel touched that he feels safe enough here to close his eyes, but I have work to do and can't look after him while I'm doing it.

"Hey, Frase," I call but he doesn't even blink. "Frase! Hey, buddy!" That gets him up quickly, blushing.

"I'm really sorry, Ray... I..."

"Don't sweat it, okay," I smile at him. "Here's your potion. Go ahead, drink up, buddy!"

He takes it carefully, smells it and to my amazement stretches out his tongue to taste it.

"I know it smells bad, I bet it even tastes kinda funky but it'll help." I assure him.

"I bet," he says and swallows it down. "Thank you!"

"For my lunch," I tell him. "C'mon, I'll give you a ride home."

"You have a car, Ray?"

"Yeah, pretty much all I have."

Dief is up and at our heels as we walk out the door which I lock behind us, setting up my wards to protect my home.

"That's a fine automobile you have, Ray," Fraser says as soon as we reach my black beauty.

"You calling this a fine automobile? You're kiddin', right? This, my friend, is a 1967 GTO, the best car in the world."

"I'm sorry, Ray." He grins at me. "It wasn't my intention to insult your car."

"You're a freak, you know that? Get in."

"Understood."

He's silent on our way to his home - rather, the place where he lives, cuz calling this neighborhood home is the same as calling my car a 'fine automobile'.

"You okay, buddy?"

He's still silent, looking down at his hands and I reach for him when his head comes up and he looks straight into my eyes.

I glance away immediately.

"Stop that," I kinda hiss. "Don't you know better than to look into my eyes?"

"Why's that, Ray?"

"You really don't know?"

"No, I don't."

"You ever heard of something called soul gaze?"

"You mean like one's eyes are the window to your soul?"

"Yeah, like that."

"Are you saying, Ray that you don't want to look into my soul?" He cocks his head, looking at me curiously.

Suddenly it gets too warm in the car and his eyes are too... something... cuz I wanna look, I really do but what I don't know is what he's going to see in my eyes. I can't risk that, he just got comfortable with me.

"No."

"I see." He's hurt, I can hear it.

"Look..."

"No, Ray. It's perfectly understandable." Like it's his soul that's the problem here.

The silence gets uncomfortable and Dief whines in the backseat when Fraser starts talking again.

"This potion is going to protect me?"

"Yeah." I nod my head. "You see, usually, a ghost can't hurt you physically. It can take shape, sure, it can even give you nightmares, but it can't hurt you like you got hurt. Someone on this side of the divide has to help it, someone who possesses something that leads directly to you. A blood sample, a hair, or something."

"And the potion does what exactly?"

"It throws them back to how they started," I say. "I mean it wasn't that bad right from the start, right?"

Fraser touches his bruised face and shakes his head.

"No. Nightmares at first, which I could blame on my feelings of guilt."

"See? This way, I have enough time to figure out who's helping that son-of-a-bitch." I bounce a little in my seat.

"Language, Ray."

"What?" I look at him in disbelief. Did he just say that I should watch my mouth? "You ARE a freak", I tell him before he can apologize again.

His neighborhood turns out to be as bad as I thought. No wonder his wards couldn't protect him here, this is not a home, just a house.

Homes, places that people live in and love and have built a life in, have a power of their own. I could get in but I would leave most of what I can do at the door.

Hopefully Fraser's apartment door has some protection to offer.

"You have to invite me in," I tell Fraser as we reach apartment 2B, even though I feel that his threshold wouldn't give me much trouble. This is a place where Fraser sleeps, not lives. "Oh, and maybe I should warn you that stuff like TVs or radios doesn't like me much."

"No worries, please come in, Ray!"

"Thanks!"

"You're quite welcome!"

Calling my home spartan must have been a joke to Fraser, cuz this guy barely has furniture. A table, a chair, a fridge and a bedroll. That's it.

"You see, Ray, I don't need much."

And what the hell is that supposed to mean?

Instead of asking him, I take a closer look around.

A bright red uniform hangs in his tiny closet. I walk over and touch the serge.

"It itches, right?"

"Very much so, yes."

"You still wearing it?"

"I'm not an officer of the law anymore." I nod my head; so he quit after the incident with Victoria.

"I get that."

"You do?"

I turn to him, looking at his face and my heart starts aching. He's punishing himself - not being a Mountie anymore, not having a home, living in a place where he doesn't want be. I get that alright, cuz I went down that road, got the t-shirt. I've been there.

"Yeah," I kinda whisper and cough embarrassedly. "Look, I gotta go." I hurry over to the door as I get stopped by his hand on my arm.

No pain this time, just the warmth of his hand.

"Ray," he says real gently and I will myself not to turn to him. He lets go of me then and steps back.

"We haven't discussed your fees yet."

"$50 per hour, plus expenses," I say automatically.

"Agreed."

"I'm gonna call you." I'm half out the door.

"I don't have a phone, Ray."

Damn!

"I'll get to you somehow." And I flee down the stairs.

Dammit! I don't need this! Not now! Not ever!

I'm a professional for God's sake, a wizard! But being a wizard, being different doesn't make me less human or less lonely.

I slam my fist against the nearest thing I can reach, which happens to be a trash can that falls to the ground, emptying its garbage.

Shit!

My hand hurts like hell and I'm not feeling any better. Blood spills on the upholstery of the car as I climb in and I curse some more.

I don't deserve this, I don't!

~::~::~

Once I get home, I'm calm enough to realize two things. Nah, let's face it: three things.

First, Dief isn't with me, so I'll have to deal with a real pissed off half-wolf sometime in the future. But he's with Fraser who's probably feeding him all the stuff he never gets from me, so how hard can it be?

Second, it's dark outside. I mean dark-dark, like all-the-street-lights-burned-out dark and that's kinda suspicious even with me around.

Third, I'm in trouble. In shit deep trouble and that point turns out to be so damn true when I get out of my car and am hit by something really powerful that knocks me to the ground.

Shit!

The blasting rod is in my left duster pocket and I fight with it to get it out, looking around for my attacker but it's too dark to see a thing. I can't see that good anyway and my glasses are in my apartment, probably on the coffee table were I put and forgot them this morning.

Just great!

Suddenly wind starts blowing and I have trouble getting to my feet.

"Leave this one alone, wizard!" a voice calls from behind me and I turn, blasting rod in hand, seeing a blurred shadow at the end of the alley.

"What if I don't?" I hate to be told what to do. It always gets me pissed off.

The wind gets stronger, dragging at my clothes and I sway like a leaf. Time for some action, I think and lift the blasting rod to gather my will.

"Vento Riflittum," I shout, willing my power through my shoulders and arms through the blasting rod at my attacker.

The forces we called struggle, the wind gets louder and louder and my blasting rod starts glowing in the dark.

"Ventas," I shout again. "Ventas fulmino!" And lightning reacts to my call, making impact just where I guessed the sorcerer to be.

I stumble to the ground with the lightning's impact, letting go of my blasting rod - a really stupid thing to do but it burns my hands.

It suddenly gets quiet around me. No wind, no lightning.

Nothing but silence.

Whoever wanted to pit its strength against mine is gone and I hope I made a good impression but lying on the ground like that isn't really proving it.

Fuck!

I get up, grabbing the still warm blasting rod when all the pieces fall into place.

Michael Thatcher had the same injuries as Fraser, both were attacked by a woman, someone they were close to. Maybe...

Fraser!

I'm up and in the car in seconds, breaking every speed limit, while all I wanna do is bang my head against the wheel.

Idiot!

Stupid fuckin' idiot!

I rush up the stairs to Fraser's apartment, banging on his door but he doesn't open it. All I can hear is Dief whining inside.

"Fraser!" I yell like a maniac, jiggling the door knob.

It's not locked.

Dumbfounded I stand at the threshold. What the fuck? I crack my neck, deciding that I can lecture him later, and go in, feeling a cold rush on my neck just as I pass the threshold. Like I said, nothing I can't handle here.

Dief jumps at me, barking worriedly.

"I'm here, boy," I tell him while I walk over to Fraser's sleeping figure.

It's not a restful kinda sleep, even though he's lying on his back, motionless, his hands crossed over his chest. Sweat's running down his face and he's making pained noises.

"Fraser!" I'm standing right beside his bedroll, looking down at him. "C'mon, buddy, you're just dreaming." My voice is low and I don't even know why, cuz I really wanna wake him up here.

"Fraser!" I now practically yell into his face.

I think on an ordinary day he would be up by now but this bitch has a very strong hold on his sleep, so I touch him, immediately feeling her work on him.

I get angry but will it down, cuz it wouldn't do much good to fight with her right now while she has a hold on Fraser. So I calm down, breathing deeply while I gently run my hands over Fraser's body, thinking about something peaceful to make him feel safe.

"C'mon, buddy. It's me, Ray," I whisper, soothing him. "C'mon, leave her behind, you can do it, easily."

I dunno for how long I'm talking like that but suddenly I feel his hand over mine and his eyes are open.

Thank God!

"Hi," I whisper, looking down at out joined hands, feeling giggly all of a sudden.

"Ray!"

"Yeah," I smile. "Me."

"Why...," he's about to ask as he suddenly runs his hands over his face. "I... Ray, you said, you..."

"Sshhh," I grab his hands, stopping them from roaming over his face. "It was just a dream, nothing more."

"But..."

"Come with me!"

~::~::~

He's arguing with me all the way back to my apartment and I'm close to popping him one, cuz he doesn't know shit. Taking care of himself, yeah, right!

I practically had to drag him into my car but surprisingly I got help - Dief insisted we take his new pack-mate with us.

"Ray, it really isn't necessary to babysit me," Fraser says for the thousandth time. Not exactly in those words, cuz he seems to have swallowed a dictionary, but I get the meaning anyway.

Either he doesn't want my help, which is ridiculous cuz he came to me in the first place, or he doesn't want to be near me which makes me think that... I look over at his side of the car. He's still talking, waving his hands like he trying to make a point here but despite the short time I've known him, I see the signs.

Eyebrow rubbing. Collar tugging. Neck cracking.

"Fraser?" he stops speaking right away. "Shut the hell up, will'ya?" I dunno why I think that I can talk to him like that but I feel like it and I've always been a person who goes with his gut. "You're in my car, I'm at the wheel and we're going to my apartment - what are you gonna do?" I look questioningly at him. "Jump out?"

"Of course not, Ray," Fraser protests but there is just a glimpse in his eyes that he might have thought about it.

"You afraid of me?" I slightly turn to him now cuz I have to know this, not just his answer verbally but what his body is saying.

You know body language is the one and only language I perfectly understand - sometimes it takes a slap in my face to make me see something. Hopefully I won't get slapped now.

"No, Ray. I'm not afraid of you," he says, looking at my face, his body relaxed in his seat.

"Oh. Okay," I smile relieved.

"I'm just used to take care of my problems by myself."

"I get that, buddy," I shake my head in agreement. "But you need my help with this one."

"I've come to realize that, Ray. Thank you kindly."

So, finally he stops arguing about the whole apartment thing. At least, 'til we get there, cuz he's doing it again right now. God, he must really love fighting. At least with me.

"Please, Ray," he rubs his right ear this time. "I will not put you out of your own bed."

I'm gettin' seriously mad at him but I swallow my anger down. There is just no point making a fuss about this when I have better things to do than just thinking about him lying in my bed.

"Okay," I say. "Have it your way," and with that I throw some blankets and a pillow on the couch.

"Ray..."

"No, Fraser," I lift my hand to stop him. "You wanna sleep on the couch, you sleep on the damn couch."

"Ray."

"I've got work to do," I open the door to my subbasement and leave him alone, standing helplessly in my living room.

"Bob!" I snarl as soon as I get down there. "Bob!"

"Trouble in wizard-land, Ray?" He asks sarcastically.

"You could say that," I mumble while Bob looks suspiciously up the ladder.

"There is someone there again," he declares.

I take a deep breath in.

"Yeah. Look, Bob I have to get some information..."

"I'm going out?" he lights up like a Christmas tree. "Ray, c'mon! Say it. Let me out."

I lift my hand.

"Bob!"

"Yes!"

"I need you to snoop around for someone powerful enough to rip a human's ribcage open by force of will."

"Nasty," he says but his eyes are still shining with excitement.

"You could say that," I whisper, running my hand over my face. God, I'm tired.

"Okay. I'm out of here then."

"Stop!" I yell, cuz I have to make sure that my helpful friend is coming back. "I'll let you out exactly 'till the sun comes up." I look at him to make myself clear. "You have to be back again by sunrise!"

"Ray," he's clearly disappointed.

"Sunrise, Bob," I say again and wave him away.

As soon as Bob is on his way, I slide down to the ground, my head on my knees. Sleep, I need sleep and nothing but sleep. But I don't have the time to rest. There are people in danger, people I don't even know but care about nonetheless and there is Fraser up in my apartment. I sigh. Time to face the music.

I haven't even reached the ladder when I hear my front door being knocked open and Fraser politely telling whoever just crossed my threshold to have the kindness to remove themselves.

Kindness? What the fuck!

That guy is a total freak, I tell myself as I hurry up the ladder, blasting rod in hand to tell whoever just passed my wards and entered my apartment to fuck the hell off.

As I reach the door nothing has happened so far - Fraser's standing by my couch, Dief by his side while 3 dark guys with black hoods over their heads are standing at my knocked down door.

"Step behind me," I yell in Fraser's direction, lifting my blasting rod, gathering my power to create a shield in front of me.

"It's not him we want," one of the guys said in a grave-cold voice.

"Fraser," I snarl 'til the guy finally comes nearer. "Behind me," I say again and step in front of him. God, he's stubborn as a mule.

"He can go," the guy first points at Fraser, then at the door.

"I won't leave my friend behind," Fraser stands close and I can feel his breath on my neck. I turn slightly towards him.

"I have your word?" I ask, not looking at the guys but at Fraser.

"You have my word, wizard," and no one from the spiritual world would break a given word cuz it's going to cost you.

"Go!"

Fraser goes stiff as a board, a mulish expression upon his face.

"Go already!" I scream, stepping out of his way.

"Ray?"

"I said, GO!" I look at him, my eyes hard, pushing him away with my harsh attitude and finally he moves. Stiff as a piece of wood he passes me by and steps out of my apartment, probably out of my life.

"It was nice knowing you," I whisper before I send Dief after him with a wave of my hand. Seeking shelter for everyone but me, I have to face three dead guys alone. Yeah, dead guys. I'm pretty sure these fellows already know what the earth looks like from the other side.

Vampires!

You know, everything you see in vampire movies is actually true - even the cross and garlic thing. It's a shame I have neither of those at hand right now.

They come closer slowly, circling around me to make it hard, if not impossible, for me to get out.

All I got is my blasting rod and I really don't wanna set my apartment on fire. Again. My landlord would get really pissed at me if the Fire Department had to flood the house for the second time in six months. But what am I gonna do? I can't reach anything wooden and... Suddenly one of the guys goes off in a puff of dust and I see Fraser standing there with a wooden stick in his hand.

What the fuck is he doing?

"Ray," he yells, throwing a stick at me while he attacks the guy next to him.

I catch the stick but before I can attack I got a handful of vampire up close and personal. God, these guys are strong and quick.

I squirm like an eel to get him off me but the vampire has a death-grip on me and I have no choice but to gather my will to set him on fire. Hopefully just him and not me or the house.

"Fuego!" I scream and a tiny flame escapes from the blasting rod.

The vampire screams in agony and ... dust... Bye! Bye!

I'm breathing hard as I turn to Fraser who already got rid of the last vampire and looks at me in amazement now. I grin at him before I get serious again.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He straightens his back, looking at me innocently which I don't buy for a second.

"I was under the impression, Ray, that you wanted to distract these men..."

"Distract? Fraser, are you nuts? These weren't men. They were vampires, Fraser. Fuckin' vampires!"

"I noticed, Ray," calm as you please.

"You what?"

"Their scent gave them away, Ray," he kinda whispers like he wants to tell me a secret.

"You smelled them?" I can't believe it.

"It was rather obvious, Ray. You see, people who..."

"I really don't wanna know," I interrupt him. "How did you know what to do?"

"I thought that I would go for the traditional manner of fighting these creatures and I saw quite a few movies in my youth and..."

I lift me hand to stop him.

"Alright. Alright, I got it." I roll my shoulders. "Thank you!"

"You are quite welcome, Ray!" He smiles.

~::~::~

"We have to find out who sent these clowns."

"Obviously, Ray!" Fraser points out. "Would you be so kind, then, as to fill me in on the details, since it seems like we have a liaison now?"

"Lia... what?" I frown at him.

"Partners, Ray," he smiles at me. "A duet."

"That I get," I crack my neck. "Just don't lias... with me, 'kay?"

"Understood."

"Okay, here's what I got so far: there is you on one side, and then there is a guy named Michael Thatcher who got killed last night and who was, coincidentally, attacked in his sleep like you."

"Ah, I see." I wonder what he means by that. "Since it's unlikely that I'm related to him in any way our connection has to be the person who's helping Victoria."

"Exactly."

"Where do we start looking?"

"Yellow press."

Fraser looks at me like I've lost my mind and I start grinning like a fool - he certainly didn't see this coming.

"I'm not sure I understand how papers which tend to violate people's privacy can be of help here."

"Best information source in town, I tell ya."

~::~::~

Since I'm not interested in gossip, I'm standing in front of Frannie Vecchio's home with Fraser and Dief at my heels at 3 a.m. in the morning.

"I don't think Ms. Vecchio is going to be pleased to have guests this late at night," Fraser says, nervously tugging at his collar.

"Don't worry," I wink at him. "She'll be very pleased."

"Oh dear!"

~::~::~

"Isn't he beautiful?" Frannie sighs dreamily, sitting beside Fraser in her pink bathrobe while I'm on the couch, flipping through the pages.

"His bone structure is quite tremendous," Fraser says without looking at her, his gaze on the page in front of him, and I grin, cuz Frannie is obviously not paying any attention to the paper.

"Quite tremendous," I repeat, bending over Fraser's shoulder to have a look at the picture. "Quite," I say again, nudging Fraser and he finally looks up, directly into Fannie's ecstatic face.

"Oh dear." He blushes deeply and tugs at his collar. "If you will excuse me, I have to use the facilities," and Fraser is up and out of the room in a flash.

"You scare him," I smile at Frannie.

"I do not!" she protests. "Is it my fault that he's beautiful?"

"Nah, it isn't," I nod my head, a little dreamy myself cuz he's really handsome and totally unaware of the reaction he provokes.

"Oh, Ray," Frannie's voice is sympathetic all of a sudden and I meet her gaze for a second.

Frannie knows me better than anyone and, self-centered as she might seem, she really isn't. She's about to say something else when Fraser comes back and we fall silent.

Frannie touches my arm then. "Another beer, Ray?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Tea, Fraser?" Her voice is still warm but not as cloyingly anymore.

"That would be nice, thank you kindly." She can't help a sigh and hurries towards the kitchen with a hand over her mouth. Sorry, Frannie!

"I hope I haven't offended her," Fraser says, looking after her.

"Nah," I smile at him. "You haven't."

"Good."

"She's a nice person, you know." I tell him then. "And she kinda likes you."

"I got as much, Ray," he says and turns to me, looking very serious. "I'm not interested in a relationship with Ms. Vecchio." He gazes into my eyes for a second before he looks away again but I got his message loud and clear.

Wow!

I blush.

I never blush but I do so now and I'm speechless, also something I'm not known for.

"Did you...", I stammer helplessly. "Did you just..."

"I did, Ray!"

I crack my neck.

"Oh. Okay." Clever, wizard! Really clever!

"Are you offended now?" he asks curiously, rubbing his eyebrow.

"Me?" I'm probably smiling like a fool now. "Nah!"

"So, we're good then."

"We are, buddy. We are."

We fall silent then, looking at each other - avoiding direct eye contact - and the tension between us grows. My whole body starts tingling, cuz I feel, deep down inside, that Fraser is going to reach for me any second now. Finally he lifts his right hand slowly like someone pressed the slow motion button on a remote control and places it on my face, rubbing gently with his thump.

God!

I lean into his touch and shut my eyes, placing my own hand over his.

How much I missed a human touch; I hadn't been touched for... like ages and the simple fact that Fraser wanted to touch me almost cracks me up inside.

Many people underestimate how powerful the touch of another person's hand can be. The need to be touched is something so primal, so a part of our existence as humans that it's difficult to put it into words. And it has nothing to do with sex either, cuz from the time we're infants, we learn to associate the touch of a human hand with safety, with comfort, with love...

"Ray," Fraser whispers, leaning in as just as Frannie comes back with a cheerful "Your drinks boys!"

'Dammit!'

We both blush like teenagers who got caught by their parents, but Fraser is still near and touching me like he doesn't want to let go, no matter what.

"Oh," Frannie stands still by the door, blushing herself. "I... I'm sorry! I didn't...", she turns around. "I'll leave you alone."

I'm on my feet then.

"No, Frannie, c'mon," I cough a little embarrassed. "We have to go anyway."

What was I thinking? And what was Fraser thinking? He doesn't know what he's getting himself into here. A wizard, of all people!

I can't do this again. Ever! It hurts too much and I have to stay in control - losing it would make me dangerous cuz magic comes from inside of me, is driven by my feelings and if Fraser decides that he can't bear to be with a wizard anymore or that he really wants to go home again... No!

My wall - the one which should have protected me against Fraser in the first place - is back in place within a second and I will my heart to beat normal again.

Fraser immediately sees my change in mood and what was cozy and comfortable a minute before is cold as ice now.

"Ray?" He asks, knowing better than to reach for me.

"We have to go, Fraser. Pitter patter!"

I'm out of Frannie's home without further words and am wondering if Fraser is going to follow me. Some part of me hopes he won't and some... you know, I can't help it that I really want him around.

The passenger door of my car opens and Fraser lets Dief in before he gets in himself. He places his hat on the dashboard before he turns to me, looking me up and down, rubbing his eyebrow.

"What did I do wrong, Ray?"

I stare straight ahead.

"Nothing. You did nothing wrong, Fraser."

"There clearly is something amiss," he insists.

"Nothing is AMISS," I get angry and my hands have a death-grip on the wheel.

"Ray..."

"Fraser!" I interrupt, lifting my right hand. "You just don't know what you're gettin' yourself into."

"I'm not her, Ray!" And you would think that he's pissed as hell but his voice is just sad and that gets to me like nothing else.

I shut my eyes, breathing deeply.

"I know, Frase," I whisper, still not turning in his direction. "I... I'm just," I turn to him now. "I'm scared shitless!" And that's damn true, cuz the last time I fell in love I was fuckin' 13 years old and I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with Stella. Instead I got a broken heart and an empty home.

"I'm not free of fear myself, Ray," Fraser whispers and I think about the stuff he has told me about Victoria and what she did to him.

So it's me who reaches out this time, taking his hand in mine, squeezing it gently.

"I get that," I say and he relaxes with my touch. "Just, let's finish this case and..."

"Of course, Ray," he interrupts, nodding.

"Okay. Right." I let go of him and run my hands through my hair.

Back to business!

"How many names do you have?"

Fraser takes a slip of paper out of his jacket pocket, unfolds it.

"6 names, Ray," he rubs his eyebrow. "I don't think Mr. Thatcher knew the meaning of monogamy."

I smile.

"Yeah, you might be right about that, cuz I got 4."

"If I may suggest, Ray," Fraser says. "Since you're working with the local law enforcement it would be effective to run these names through the police database."

"There is just one problem," I get the motor running and the car on the road. "Most policemen hate me as much as computers do."

~::~::~

15 minutes later we walk through the bullpen of Special Investigations and it's like death is coming to town cuz everyone goes silent, avoiding us, as we walk by.

I try not to smile while Fraser looks curiously around and Dief's checking out the desks, hunting for donuts, I think.

"Good morning," Fraser greets politely but no one answers him.

I guess he'll have to get used to it if he wants to be with me, which isn't ... you know, the jury is still out on it cuz I really don't know if this is a good idea at all.

"Kowalski!" Dewey's voice breaks through the silence around.

"'morning, Tom," I say, turning to Fraser. "This is..."

"Don't care," he interrupts and I'm ready to get pissed as hell when Fraser touches my arm and gives me a warning look. Still, it's just rude...

"We would like to speak with Lieutenant Welsh, please," Fraser says nice as you please.

"This way," Tom points in the direction of the interrogation rooms and Fraser walks towards them like he owns the place, with me on his heels.

"You've been here before?" I ask Fraser as Dewey leaves us alone to get Welsh, I hope.

"Not here in particular, no," he looks around like he has to make sure that he really hasn't been here before and is not lying to me now. "Before..." he stops, cracking his neck, "I was attached as liaison officer with the Canadian Consulate and the Chicago Police Department."

I frown.

"So, you worked as a cop here." And with here I mean Chicago, not SI, cuz he told me he hasn't been here before and I pay attention to what he's tellin' me.

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

He tries to suppress a tone of longing but I get that he misses it. Before I can get into it, the door opens and Welsh comes in, looking crumpled like he was working all-night.

"Kowalski," he greets, looking at Fraser who immediately gets into his groove of: "My name is Constable Benton Fraser and I came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father..."

"You are the Mountie!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Welsh smiles slightly.

"Heard about you over at the 27.," he says appreciatively. "Highest solve rate in town, it's a shame you quit."

"It wasn't my merit alone, Sir," Fraser corrects and I stare at him like he's suddenly grown an extra head. Looks like Fraser is a legend here - why had I never heard about him?

"Detective Jack Huey...," Fraser turns to me then. "Detective Huey was my partner, Ray," and I nod when Welsh interrupts again.

"What are you doing with Kowalski?"

"I'm not doing anything with Mr. Kowalski," Fraser's playing dumb, I can tell. "I'm merely in need of his help and advice on a rather personal matter."

"Ah," Welsh nods like he understands what he obviously doesn't. "What brings you here, Kowalski?"

"We," I wave at Fraser and myself, "got a few suspects on the Thatcher case and... you know... we..." Asking for help never was my strong suit.

"If I may, Ray," Fraser smiles. "We are in need of the cooperation of the Police Department to identify a suspect to prevent further wrong-doings and possible deaths among the Chicago population."

"Yeah," I grin. "Exactly."

Welsh looks at us kinda odd, frowning, but he gets with the program really quickly.

"What do you have?"

"We have a list of names...," I say.

"Two list, actually," Fraser adds, taking his list out of his pocket.

"Yeah, two lists and it would be great if you could check if any of these women are in town or even live here or have lived here, whatever."

Welsh nods and looks at our lists.

"So, you're working the ex-lover angle?"

"Yeah, like I told you. Strong motive in any case but when magic is involved, absolutely fatal."

"Anyone in particular?"

I frown, not knowing if I should tell Welsh but since there is no real evidence he won't go for a warrant.

"That Scarpa woman ticks me off."

"Scarpa?" Fraser and Welsh ask.

"It's just a hunch," I tell them and that's really all it is cuz, even as a wizard, you aren't able to see the past or read people's minds.

Welsh nods while Fraser seems to think about my theory cuz he's got that distant look upon his face.

"I'll call you."

"Thank you kindly, Lieutenant."

"You can tell Frannie if I'm not there," I hold the door for Fraser and we walk out of the Department to my car.

"Denny Scarpa, Ray?" Fraser wants to know, rubbing his eyebrow.

"Yeah," I nod. "Anything wrong with that?"

"No, I just," he tugs at his collar. "From what I read she seems to be a woman who cares about the well-being of orphans and under-privileged people in this town."

"You think cuz she's nice she couldn't be a murderer?"

"No, Ray. I was just thinking that a caring person, which Ms. Scarpa seems to be, is hardly a usual suspect and..."

"Unrequited love can do that to you," I interrupt and Fraser goes stiff as a board in his seat.

"I guess you are right, Ray."

"Yeah," I whisper.

We drive in silence then, not much to say on such a sensitive subject.

"We are at your apartment, Ray," Fraser points out as I set the brake.

"Stating the obvious again," I smile at him, gettin' out of my car. "I sent someone else snooping," I get my apartment door open and hustle Fraser in.

"Someone else?"

"Yeah," I roll my shoulders. "I got a little friend who helps me out from time to time."

"Ah, I understand."

"Take a seat, get comfortable," I tell Fraser while I grab a glass and fill it with water for him. "I'll be back in a second," I hand him the water and walk towards the door to my subbasement.

"Thank you kindly."

~::~::~

The sun is up already and Bob should be back by now, hopefully with something useful.

"Bob!" I call as I get down the ladder, candle in hand.

"Ray," Bob yawns or yawns as much as a spirit can yawn.

"What have you got?"

His eyes start glowing then.

"You wouldn't believe it, Ray. There were two women and..."

"Bob!"

"Really, Ray, you should have seen what they did with their..."

"Bob!" I practically yell now.

"Ray?" Bob asks innocently.

"What have you got besides your usual sex observations?"

"Oh Ray, you should go out more," Bob complains. "It was really interesting."

"I bet," I mumble. "Did you hear anything about a person who's practicing black magic to kill people by, lets say, ripping their bodies open?"

"Yes, I did."

Silence.

"Bob?"

No answer.

"Bob!" This is really the wrong time to test my patience.

"I want you to let me out again."

"Bob," warning voice. Every time, really. I have to deal with that stuff every time I let him out.

"Ray!"

"Bob, you go out when I tell you to and you're back when I tell you, anything you don't understand here?"

"Alright, I understand," Bob gives in like he always does. "I heard about a nice woman, beautiful really. Long legs, big..."

"Bob!"

"... money. Behaves like an angel for the poor."

"A name, Bob!"

"Denny Scarpa."

"I knew it!" I grin when suddenly a cold shiver runs down my spine.

"Something just passed your wards, Ray," Bob says as I'm half way up the ladder already, blasting rod in hand.

My apartment is dark, all the candles are out, even the fireplace, and panic rises inside of me. Darkness, the greatest fear of all humans cuz you can't see the danger coming. Don't laugh at me, I'm as human as anyone, and why the hell would you think we work so hard to make sure our cities are constantly lit? We cloak ourselves in so much light that we can't see the stars at night.

And it's not just dark, but cold, and I can almost touch the magic flooding my apartment.

"Fraser?" I whisper, turning in the direction of my couch where I saw him last.

"Fraser!"

I get a small whimper as an answer and as I pass my couch to look at it, Fraser is laying there on his back, eyes wide open, hands crossed over his heart as if he's trying to hold it inside.

"Damn!" I scream, gettin' down on my knees, grabbing his hands, not pushing them away but holding on to them.

Denny Scarpa is obviously stronger than I expected her to be. How else could she have passed my wards and attack Fraser?

"Dammit!" I curse again, anger rising inside me, enforcing my power but I can't lose control. Not here, not ever. Who knows of what I might be capable of then.

"Frase," I whisper instead, holding on to his hands while he looks at me, pleadingly, his own hands still pressed down on his heaving chest. "Don't panic!"

Great, wizard. Really.

Someone's trying to rip his heart out and you tell him not to panic.

"We have to get rid of her," I nod my head, looking around.

My eyes catch the circle I created on the other end of the room to protect me against some demon who once tried to make nice with me.

That's it.

I have to get Fraser inside the circle, every kind of magic would bounce off it once I close it. Problem is, we have to get her out of Fraser first cuz if we drag her inside with us ... you see the problem?

"You see the circle over there on the floor?" I point in the direction and Fraser follows with his eyes, slightly nodding his head. "We have to get you over there. Can you make it?"

His gaze tells me he's unsure but he tries to get up anyway.

Pain is written all over his face now, sweat's running down his body while his hands still hold onto his chest.

He's unstable on his feet, rather, on his knees as he whispers my name just before he goes down. I'm not able to catch him and he falls hard, groaning with the impact.

"Sorry, Frase! Sorry!" I'm right beside him, touching his scalp, feeling for bumps.

"Ray," he whispers again, grabbing my hand.

He's terrified and I think that's something that doesn't happen to him on a regular basis.

I have to get him inside the circle, have to fight that son-of-a-bitch Scarpa and then send Fraser away. No way he can be with me. I'm sure he doesn't even wanna be with me anymore cuz this is something that always happens to me. Danger would be a part of his life like the air he needs to breathe and I can't let that happen.

I grab him under his arms while Dief yanks on Fraser's collar and together we drag him across the floor. Sweat starts running down my own face now cuz the guy is heavy.

"You're one heavy Mountie," I tell him, trying to distract him from his pain and even from my position I can see a small smile on his lips.

"You think that's funny?" I'm almost there, just a few more inches and he's inside the circle.

Too small.

The fuckin' circle is too small.

I created it for myself in a standing position, never thought about having a huge Mountie flat on his back inside.

"You have to..." I start when Fraser rolls onto his side, pulling his knees to his chest, crossing his arms around his body to hold himself together, trying hard not to scream in pain.

"Hold on," I whisper, gently touching is sweat covered face.

He's so damn pale - like he's going to pass out any second.

"You have to stay awake," I tell him while I reach inside of me, pushing away my own fear and my anger. What did a wise man once say? All you need is love and that's true cuz good magic always comes from the love you feel, from the caring. Nothing good can come out of rage and when I look at Fraser's face - even now, aching in pain - I get warm inside and my body almost seems to glow with this warmth.

I touch his body, feeling it tremble underneath my hands and I start whispering soothing nonsense - you don't always need a spell or words that make sense, you just have to visualize inside what you wanna do and express it in any form. Fraser squirms with pain now while we fight over his body. I can feel her, her power, her hatred and fight against it with all the love I have inside. Love that was given to me by my parents, my friends, even by Stella and, as short a time as we've known each other, by Fraser.

Someone who doesn't really know me would never guess how weak I am inside, how much I need people who care for me and I can care about. All that bad-boy attitude is just that: attitude.

I carry my heart on my sleeve, really.

Sweat runs down my face while we struggle but I can feel her backing off like she's gettin' tired or I'm too strong for her after all.

Fraser's body relaxes more and more and he's breathing more easily, his hands resting on his chest, not pressing down anymore.

I start smiling like a fool as she gives finally in.

As quickly as I can, with my weak knees and everything, I crawl out of the circle, touching it with my blasting rod, closing it around Fraser to keep him safe 'til I have dealt with Scarpa and he doesn't need it anymore or 'til he breaks the circle and the spell with it.

I take a deep breath in, looking down at Fraser whose eyes are closed, his face still marked by pain and I can't hold back my anger any longer. I get on my feet, screaming:

"Fuck off!" Like a maniac.

The blasting rod in my hand starts glowing from the energy that's pouring off me.

"Ray?"

It takes me a second to get calm enough to face Fraser, not knowing what's written on my face right now - will he see my rage or my... yeah, lets face it, my love. I'm one stupid bastard, if I fall, I'm falling deep.

"Yeah?" I turn to him and since he doesn't wince my expression has to be okay.

"What happened?" He whispers, his eyes still glassy but he tries to get up anyway.

"You're alright now, stay down," I tell him. "You just have to stay inside the circle and you'll be safe."

He's sittin' now, looking around in confusion.

"Look, nothing can harm you as long as you stay inside the circle, I promise you."

Fraser nods his head.

"I believe you." He says. "What's going to happen when there is an emergency and I have to cross the line?" He's recovering pretty fast if he can ask questions like that already.

"Not gonna happen."

"Ray!"

"Not. Gonna. Happen. Fraser."

"Ray! Ray! Ray!"

"Don't!" I warn him, lifting my right hand. "You stay inside, no matter what."

"But, Ray..."

Why does he always have to argue about everything?

"... there could be a fire, people could be in need of my help. You could be in need of my help."

"You're the one in need of help here," I reply sarcastically.

"I see."

"What?" I get in the mood to fight with him and he just agrees or whatever he means with 'I see' anyway.

He kinda sighs.

"If I'm not mistaken and please correct me if I'm wrong, Ray, nothing can harm me as long as I stay inside the circle you created for protection."

I nod my head in agreement.

"But if I have to...," I open my mouth to protest but he stops me with a wink of his hand. "Just pretend there really is an emergency, I can cross the line without resistance?"

"Yeah," I whisper. "Just you from the inside can break the spell."

"Thank you, Ray!"

"Just stay inside."

"I can't promise you that."

I know that I can't keep him there for long, he's just someone who has to be involved in anything, doing his part but I would feel a lot better if he were unconscious now or if I could cuff him in there. I wouldn't have to worry then. But it looks like there is no time to worry anyway cuz my door gets knocked down for the second time today.

Dammit!

Who's gonna pay for all the damage?!

~::~::~

Dief is standing beside me, his ears turned back, growling deep in his throat as a woman enters my apartment, looking around in disgust.

"Ray..."

"Stay inside," I tell Fraser again.

"You tend to keep your clients close, wizard?" The woman asks, looking first at me, then at Fraser. "You shouldn't have got involved in this. It's none of your business."

I try to stay calm, not knowing how to react yet.

"I'm known for full service," I lift me chin, showing that I'm not impressed at all.

She smiles, observing the circle around Fraser.

"So, I won't need this anymore," she says, throwing some kind of voodoo doll with human hair and something that looks like... I shudder, she had opened Victoria's grave to get an even stronger connection between her and Fraser. A sick feeling settles into me as I look at this crazy woman and what she has done to create her magic.

"Ray?" Fraser asks with an uncertain voice, he has to feel that something horrible had taken place to haunt him.

"You're alright as long as you stay inside," I say, not answering the question he really had asked. No way could I tell him ever what Scarpa did with his kid.

"How long do you think he can survive?" Scarpa smiles. "He's going to starve to death."

"He won't!" My anger rises, she wasn't just threatening me but Fraser and suddenly I feel the urge to use the same dark strengths as she, changing everything, even the world, to my will.

There is such power, it was offered to me once but I had turned it down, knowing I could reach for it if I wanted to ever since.

I could kill her now, before she even knew what happened. I could call down fury and flame on the house and kill everyone in it, not leaving a stone upon another. I could reach out and embrace the dark energy, draw it in and use it for whatever I wanted, and the consequences be damned.

I clench my fist, brewing inside.

Something strange happens then. Another hand takes mine. The hand is strong, male and suddenly I'm able to see clear of the anger, the hate, the deep lust that burns within me for vengeance. That isn't what magic is for. That isn't what magic does. Magic comes from life itself, from the interaction of nature and the elements, from the energy of all living beings. A man's magic demonstrates what sort of person he is.

I'm not a murderer. I am Stanley Raymond Kowalski and I'm holding the hand of someone who cares for me and who I care for. I won't destroy that, ever.

"Idiots!" Scarpa yells disgustedly and stretches her hand out, calling for fire, throwing it at us. And I gather my will in time to create a wall in front of Fraser and me.

Most people tend to forget that every action provokes a reaction - same thing with magic. So, the fire bounce off my wall, taking its direct route back to Scarpa and she has obviously never dealt with a real wizard before cuz my action takes her by surprise, sets her on fire in a second.

Before I even can come up with a spell to get hold of the fire, Fraser is by her side, a blanket in hand. She screams in agony while he desperately tries to kill the flames.

I call for an ambulance, amazed that the phone is working with all the magic flooding my apartment.

~::~::~

I'm exhausted and tired as we get back to my apartment after our statement at SI. But I'm not done yet, or rather, Fraser isn't, cuz he's looking at me seriously, studying me like he's trying to figure out what to do with me.

"May I have a look at your soul, Ray?" He asks suddenly, his gaze still on my face but not my eyes. He's waiting for my permission and I'm not sure if want to give him what he wants after all that happened today.

"Dunno if that's such a good idea." I step back from him but he won't let me get away and whispers.

"I do. I know you, Ray. Please!"

"Okay," I agree and the world stops turning around me as I look into Fraser's gray-blue eyes, cuz it's all warm and bright inside of his soul.

I can see him as a kid with his Mom and Dad. Lots of books where he got his knowledge from. Snow. People he met, people he lost - like his parents, like his child - so much guilt inside of him but there is still light everywhere I look cuz he hasn't forgotten that there is good in the world and inside of each and everyone.

I see strength and power, his will to fight for the ones he loves, what he would do to protect them and I see me. Me! In his soul, like we're meant to be and I choke up, looking away, wishing that he's seeing himself in my soul too. That he isn't scared of what I'm capable of, of what I am.

"Ray," he whispers near my ear and it's then that I realize that he's holding me in his arms.

"You're not scared?" I ask weakly.

"No, Ray. I'm not scared," he says, taking my face in his hands.

"You should be."

"No, Ray," he shakes his head and kisses me softly.

The End