Disclaimer: I don't own them. Wish I did.

Author's Notes: Anita, who encouraged me every step of the way. ZZ, who can't stand that episode, but was willing to read the story anyway. Karen, who likes these boyz. For Janet, Monica and Maureen, who endured my attempt to inculcate them to the way of dueSouth. Just wish I had more RayK episodes to show them.

Story Notes: Major spoilers for Mountie Sings the Blues, minor spoilers for everything else. If you haven't seen the episode and would like some information on it, it can be found at: http://home.hiwaay.net/~warydbom/duesouth/episodes/ep460.htm

Anyone Who Isn't Me Tonight February, 2002 By Bridget Cochran

>>><<<

"Ben Fraser?"

Ben couldn't place the woman's voice on the other end of the line. "Yes, this is Corporal Benton Fraser."

"Corporal? Congratulations."

"Thank you," he said.

"You don't know who this is." The voice was filled with amusement.

"I apologize, I don't."

"I must be losing my touch."

Ben didn't know what response was required, so he chose none.

"It's me, Tracy."

"Ah, Tracy." Tracy Jenkins. "It's good to hear your voice."

"I'm relieved you remember me," she said.

"Please forgive-"

"Nothing to forgive, Ben." Perhaps she didn't think so, but Ben felt guilty, nevertheless. After all, she'd allowed him to make his 'professional' singing debut.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

"Cut right to the chase, don't you?"

Ben frowned. He had not spoken with Tracy in some time. They had, of course, exchanged letters in the year since their paths had crossed in Chicago. He received both of the CDs she had released as well as encouragement to give up the RCMP for the life of a country and western singer. It never ceased to flatter the arrogance of his nature, even though he knew she was just being polite. "Are you in danger?"

"No, Ben, I'm calling to ask you for a favor." The humor in her voice calmed him, and oddly, warmed him, as well.

"If it's in my power," he said, only a little wary.

"Oh, it's in your power; you just might say no."

"Ah." Fraser knew what was coming. Well, he was fairly certain.

"Actually, Dwight asked me to make the call."

Dwight. This might be serious.

"We just thought we'd ask, one more time, in person, if you'd like to come join me and the band. Be my back up singer."

"That's a very kind offer-" Fraser began.

"It's not an offer yet, Ben." No, it wasn't.

"Go on."

"Dwight and I've been talking and we'd like you to be my backup singer. I've had women back me up for years, and now it's time for something different."

Ben remained silent, aware that Tracy was waiting for an objection on his part.

"I've wanted to do some duets for a while, and had some offers from other artists, men, but Dwight, well, he's the jealous type." Not that he had any reason to be. Tracy was his wife, as loyal as a man could want. "He said that he couldn't trust those guys to know I was married to him. You know, know I was married to him." Fraser made an encouraging sound, and Tracy continued. "When I asked him who he would trust, he said you."

"Tracy, I'm not a professionally trained singer."

"Neither am I." Now Tracy sounded offended. "I never even graduated high school. I sang in church choirs, same as you."

"I didn't mean to offend you," Fraser tried again.

"I know you didn't," Tracy said, defeat in her voice. "It's just that I wanted to try this, and I finally got Dwight to agree."

Guilt was usually very effective on Fraser. A few years ago, joining Tracy Jenkins in the world of country music held no attraction. He had the RCMP, he had his work at the Consulate, and with the Chicago police department. Now he was in charge of a detachment of three, far north of most civilization. He combated rabid wolves, hall fires in apartment buildings and evicting tenants for non-payment of rent.

The work lately had laid a measure of discontentment within him. It was good work, work that mattered to the people in his jurisdiction. Necessary work. But, his heart was no longer in it. He was lonely in a place he'd never been lonely before. He wanted to be here in the territories, but now that he had what he wanted, it wasn't satisfying.

It was empty.

"Tell me what my responsibilities would be."

That brought a pause on the other end of the line. "Really?" Tracy finally said.

Fraser let a small smile begin to form. "Please."

As Tracy outlined the contract she would have for Ben, he cataloged the necessary steps he'd have to take. No less than a month's notice would be satisfactory for his employer. He would have to close up his father's cabin further north.

He'd made up his mind before she began her sales pitch, but he felt compelled to say, "Diefenbaker would have to come with me."

"Well, Muddy wouldn't want you without the wolf."

Ben pushed his lips out so that they wouldn't turn into a smile, it wasn't successful. The bassist held a special place with Fraser, too. "Understood."

There was a pause. "What do you think?" He heard the worry in her voice.

"The offer is very generous."

"But."

"I will need to discuss it with my sister, and seek advice from my friend, Ray."

"Of course," Tracy said, "I would want you to talk it over with anyone and everyone. Heck, I'd like you to talk to Ren, but he's on my side."

"Yes, Renfield is your biggest fan."

The silence was peaceful, then Tracy said, "Take all the time you want."

"But you'd like to know tomorrow."

"That's another reason why I like you."

"Understood."

"If you need more time, take it. I'd like to get you into rehearsal as soon as I can." She paused. "That is, if you say yes."

They arranged a time for Benton to call Tracy the next evening, and he hung up. He rose from his desk to put on his utility parka, informing Constable Bryant that she had the command, he would be taking the rest of the afternoon off. Leaving her in stunned silence, he let Dief lead him out of the office and down the sidewalk to his apartment.

Filling his dish with kibble, Ben ignored the wuffle of disappointment. He had other things on his mind. Putting the kettle on to boil, he changed into jeans and a flannel shirt.

Pot of tea beside him on the table, Ben settled into his Morris chair to think. He knew he was going to take Tracy's offer. He would have taken it if it hadn't been as attractive as it was. His sigh was huge. A look at his watch and he picked up the phone to call Maggie. She would still be at work, he hated to interrupt her on duty, yet he needed to talk out the rationalizations he was using to make his decision.

She was on patrol, but she would be given the message. He thanked her commanding corporal kindly, and hung up. Chicago was two hours ahead of him, so he placed the next call to Ray's cell phone, hoping to catch him coming off his shift.

This call was not meant to be, either. Ray's phone was off, he'd forgotten it, or wasn't answering. Fraser didn't leave a message, not wanting to worry Ray. He would call later.

Frozen stew thawing on the stove top, Fraser pulled out his small notebook to begin to make lists. What to take, what to give away, what to store. He'd added Maggie's name to the deed for his father's cabin, but he'd have to close it up. Maybe she would want to assist him.

Then she could decide if she wanted any of his furnishings. The mission would take his leftover stores, perhaps they would know of a needy family that could use the furnishings he wouldn't be storing.

Several hours later, Fraser's planning was interrupted by the ring of the phone. "Ben? Is everything all right?"

"I believe so, Maggie."

He heard her sigh. "I was concerned when you called me at the office."

"Sorry to alarm you."

There was a long pause. Ben knew she was waiting, but was unsure how to begin.

"Ben?"

"I'm thinking of leaving the RCMP."

"Ah."

"Yes. It's not a decision I am making lightly. I just - it doesn't hold the glamour it once did."

"You have another situation? Job?"

Ben smiled. His sister would know that he would be cautious enough not to leave one position without another at the ready. "I do." He outlined Tracy Jenkins offer.

"My goodness, Ben, that's some job offer."

It was. "Do you think I'm being vain by considering it?"

"I think you'd be crazy not to consider it. But, if you say it's a year's contract, you can walk away from it at the end of the year." She paused. "You never know if you don't try."

That was true. Ben spent nearly an hour telling Maggie the details of the contract, of all he had to do, with her help, in the next month. Her support was gratifying. It was truly wonderful that he had found a sister, even this late in his life.

It would be after 8PM in Chicago, he thought after he disconnected Maggie's call. He dialed Ray's home phone.

"What is it?" came the irritable answer on the other end of the line.

"Ray, it's Benton Fraser."

"Fraser." Did Ray just groan? "Uh, Fraser." He sounded like he just realized who was calling.

"Hang up the phone, Ray," was overheard in the background. It was a woman.

"Uh, Fraser, I'm kinda busy here."

"Oh - yes - sorry." Ray was entertaining. Entertaining a woman. Ben began to blush at his neck and he felt the heat rise. "Some other time, then."

"Yeah." Ray made the noise again. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Very good," Ben said, but the line was already severed.

Benton Fraser had not been uncomfortable enough to need to crack his neck in sometime, and it resounded through the silent apartment. Diefenbaker raised his head from his paws in the form of a shrug, then lowered it again; but his eyes remained on Ben, who blew a breath out in a sigh, slapped his knees and stood up.

Waving to Dief, he grabbed his hat and coat and headed out for a walk. Sleep would not come quickly tonight.

As he walked through the night, he could feel spring in the wind. It was warmer, stronger, from the south. Time for a change.

He was not sure how his non-conversation with Ray fitted into his now fairly solid plans, but it helped seal his decision. Ray was no longer part of his life, he was moving on, enjoying relationships. Fraser, he was stagnant, filling out forms and waiting to roust teenage boys that harassed senior citizens on Main Street. Life on the road might hold something for him. It might not cure his loneliness, but it would give it a change of venue.

After traveling some distance from the edge of town, Fraser looked up into the clear, dark sky, letting a steamy breath out. Ray had moved on. Ben had left him no choice when he'd returned to the Yukon, but still, the finality of it hadn't hit home until tonight. Until he'd inadvertently interrupted Ray with a date. At home, in the middle of something.

Shaking his head against the futility of opportunities missed, of waiting for Ray to give him a sign, the slightest indication of reciprocated interest. If there had been a sign from his partner, Ben had missed it. And Ben prided himself on not missing signs.

On the trail. Okay, he was better on the trail, in nature. With other species of life. With his own, he was woefully inadequate, looking for things that weren't there, that had never been there. But, hoping that once, just once the one he wanted wanted him back.

Stamping his foot twice, he hoped Dief would feel the vibration in the ground and know that it was time to return home.

>>><<<

Six days later, Ray returned his call.

"Hey, Fraser, sorry about last week. I was in the middle of something."

"Understood, Ray," Fraser sat down in his easy chair, Diefenbaker at his side, as if he were waiting for his turn on the phone.

The pause felt awkward to Ben, yet he didn't know how to start the conversation. The reason he called Ray was past.

"So, what is it you wanted, Fraser?"

"I had a decision to make, and was seeking your advice."

"Oh?" Ray perked up. "Still need some help?"

"No, Maggie was able to help me, but thank you kindly for the offer."

Another pause.

"So, what was the decision?"

"I've decided to leave the RCMP."

"What?" Ray's voice was small, nearly inaudible.

"Tracy Jenkins made me an offer to join her ensemble."

"Ensemble?"

"Band."

"You're going to be a country singer."

"A back-up vocalist."

"A block of wood that sings like a bird." Now there was affection in his voice, Fraser could hear it. "Who'd 'a thought?"

"Tracy, apparently."

"So, you're taking it." It wasn't a question.

"I am. I start in three weeks."

Ray whistled. "No moss growing under you."

Perhaps it just wasn't readily visible. "Should be quite different than I'm used to."

"That it should; that it should."

They spoke for a few more minutes; Ray filling Fraser in on events in the lives of their common friends, but the conversation seemed awkward, stilted. Finally, after yet another long pause, Fraser said, "I'm sorry if I interrupted something when I called."

The laugh was dry, with no humor. "Nah, Fraser, don't worry about it. I get lucky once a decade and you call. I'm thinking it's a karma thing."

"What's a karma thing, Ray?"

"The coitus interrupt us." Pause. "Like Connie wasn't the one I was supposed to be with, so the forces of nature have a phone call interrupt us. Like Ray Kowalski having sex with a nice lady is against the cosmic balance or something."

That sounded sad even to Fraser. "I'm sure that's not true."

"Feels like it." But Ray immediately put it aside. "What? You gonna be on the road or something?"

"Tracy feels we'll need a month to get used to each other and prepare for the tour."

"Tour? Will you be coming to Chicago?" Ray's hopeful tone made him smile.

"Not on this tour, I'm afraid. Australia and New Zealand."

"Wow."

"Indeed."

"I guess I won't see you for a while."

"Probably not, but I'll write."

"And I'll phone. You'll be getting a cell phone, right."

For you, Ray, "I will."

"Greatness." Another pause. The conversation was over. "Listen, I'm on a stake out tonight, so I'm going to get some supper."

"Okay, Ray,"

"Okay. Okay. You take care. Call me anytime. Won't be interrupting anything 'til after 2010." The accompanying laugh was dry as dust.

"And I will write."

"Gonna miss you, Benton-buddy." He would if Ray's use of his first name were any indication.

"And I, you," Ben said in return.

They said their final good-byes and Ben was alone. Again.

>>><<<

Ray leaned on the kitchen counter and stared at the phone for a while after he hung up, trying to figure out how he felt. Fraser's gonna be a country singer, he thought. What a kick in the head. The last thing ever Ray thought Fraser would be. Geeze. Thought he was gonna be a Mountie forever. Be buried in the red serge and pumpkin pants. Somehow, it made Ray kinda sad. Like a chapter in his own life was closing.

He pushed himself up from the counter. Jerk off. He said he'd write; you said you were going to call. Get a grip. Go to work.

The inner dialog didn't help him figure out any better how he felt, but for a few minutes it made him feel like someone was there. He found his keys in his jacket and headed out.

>>><<<

Flannel shirt, jeans and hiking boots, he didn't even wear a requisite cowboy hat. His hair was still short, his posture still rigid. He couldn't change the essence of who he was overnight, so Tracy worked with it, sharing a single microphone for their duets. Work also had to be done on the main repertoire, which she referred to as her songbook. There were many such bits of jargon that Ben had to studiously capture. He was out of his element enough without having to ask for repeated translations.

The first duet they worked on together was "Golden Rings". Tracy picked in homage to meeting Ben in Chicago, but the truth was it was one of her favorite songs.

Her choice was sound, even if the material was quite sad. It felt kind of presumptuous to cover a Tammy Wynette - George Jones song, but Tracy assured him that it was perfect for them. Not a wide range of notes, Ben could have the melody and Tracy would do the harmony.

Ben knew he could never match the skill of his fellow band members. These were individuals that had given their lives to this craft. He knew that if he worked hard, he could go from abysmal to passable. Most of the time his fingers were bandaged as he doggedly endeavored to improve.

But his head hadn't stopped spinning yet. The month at Tracy's had not prepared him for life on an international concert tour. Although Tracy had complained bitterly in Chicago about not being able to play small houses anymore, she saw the necessity of using stadium venues for her visit to the southern hemisphere. She probably wouldn't be back for many years and didn't want to disappoint anyone if she didn't have to. His nerves threatened to paralyze him when he stood in front of his first live audience composed of strangers. Performing as a novice in front of tens of thousands was daunting to Ben, but he couldn't let Tracy and Dwight down.

>>><<<

Ben was picking out the bones of a new tune on the bus as it traveled between Flagstaff and Amarillo. Just trying to give a sound to words in his heart.

"What you working on?" Tracy asked. She sat on the bench beside him. Ben shrugged and motioned to his small notebook with his head where she read the title Has Been.

Heart ache
Has been
My companion
So many times
In my life.

Solitude,
Loneliness,
Pain
Follow me everywhere.

The only bright spot,
The only sunshine,
The only love
Has been
You.

When we're apart,
When you're far away
I wait so patiently
For the day.

I want to know
What I can do
To let you know
The only love for me
Has been
You.

Tracy hummed as he played it through. Then she sang, both she and Ben adjusting as necessary. After the second time through, a small smile came to Tracy's face. "Kinda sad."

Ben shrugged. "Kind of." He looked out the window of the bus. "Do you think it has promise?"

Tracy shook her head. Sometimes this man didn't have clue one to his talent. "I suppose so," she said. "Get the tune down on manuscript paper and give it to Muddy to see what he can do with it."

Turning back to Tracy, he nodded, obviously unsure.

"If Muddy gets it worked up, and the other guys pick it up, maybe we can try it out tomorrow night."

Ben was shaking his head. "It's no where near good enough. It's rough, just a first effort."

Tracy's smile was wry. "Has Dwight ever told you about his first effort?"

Of course, he had. Over and over again. 'The Tune' had been their ticket to stardom, and it was Dwight's first song. His best song. But then, his talents lay elsewhere.

Ben's smile matched Tracy's, but he blushed under the praise. "Thank you kindly," he said, softly.

"Thanks aren't necessary. It's a great song. Get it down on paper."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. Her eyes narrowed in mock offense before she left him alone to his work.

>>><<<

Though he'd never actually had a plan for his future, Benton Fraser had always known the general course his life would take. He would serve the Dominion and the Crown much as his father had. Well, his father had served with much more distinction than he, himself, ever had. If you didn't count dubious distinction.

>>><<<

Being nominated for song writing awards, singing awards, that had never entered into his realm of conscious thought. It wasn't even a consideration, really. And yet, he was. He was also earning copious royalties and banking a ridiculous sum of money. Diefenbaker reminded him often and at length that he could have steak every night. But, Benton would have none of it. That kind of avarice led to other frivolous and slothful behavior.

Fame. Fortune. It was a pleasant surprise how easily he'd adapted to the attention. He could promote charities, making large donations, his very donations inducing thousands of strangers to imitate him. Making a point of visiting children's hospitals, he and Diefenbaker would spend their off hours talking to children, joining in their games, meals, lessons. It made him feel as if he had a purpose.

And kept the loneliness at bay. For a few hours.

>>><<<

Fraser signed on with Tracy for a second year. Actually, with his own recording contract now, they'd merely shaken hands on their partnership. He would honor the handshake as if it were written and witnessed.

Really, what else could he do? There was more than enough money for him to retire, but at 42, that would leave a gaping hole in his life. Enough time to roam the territories, explore the world, help the poor. He would be bored in a matter of weeks.

So, he kept singing, writing songs to fill the hours of travel. Some he let Tracy and the band perform, some he kept close to his heart, not wanting to open his soul to the world as he had with Has Been.

The way the song had caught on surprised him, yet filled him with chagrin. He wrote it from the pain of being separated from Ray. But sometimes, when Tracy and he sang it, her voice would be so plaintive that he couldn't finish. She covered for him so smoothly and he admired her for it. Every time it happened, he vowed to steel himself against it the next time. He always failed.

Now, when he wrote a particularly maudlin song, he kept it to himself. Some things were his alone.

>>><<<

Once again it was Dwight's idea. It'd been four years since they'd played Chicago and Dwight said it was time to do it again. For Fraser.

Tracy couldn't help but agree. Fraser was amazing. She'd always known that, but being on the road the last two years had cemented the fact in her mind.

He acclimated to the world of show business with surprising speed, endearing himself to all the band members with his honest friendship. He even sat up with the bus driver some days, learning the names of all his children and grandchildren. They all played street hockey together in parking lots, drawing crowds, passing the hat around for the local children's hospital.

Tracy smiled. She never knew there were so many children's hospitals in the world. But she'd been to every one in every town they'd played since Ben had been on board. Lord, she'd been in this business over twenty years and never gave as much back as she had in the last two years. Ben just made you want to do more, to be better.

So, Dwight arranged the last stop on the tour to take them to Chicago for Easter. It would probably be their last tour for a while since their first child would be born this summer. Tracy propped her feet on an ottoman, adjusting the pillows behind her. It was Ben that had made her rethink her career just by asking her if she ever wanted a family.

"I've thought about it, yeah," she said. They were sitting together on the terrace of a Bed and Breakfast outside of Des Moines, Iowa sharing late afternoon tea before a show.

"What's keeping you from starting a family, then?" He was twirling his empty tea cup on the saucer as if wanting to read the future in the leaves glopped on the bottom.

Tracy had to think and turned her gaze to the cornfield beyond the inn's yard. "Dwight and me, we weren't so stable for quite a few years. Guess I was scared to start something I didn't know if we could finish."

Ben nodded when she looked back at him, remaining silent.

"But, now it's better than ever." She paused. "Better than I thought it could be."

"Dwight seems to be a different man than the one I first met."

Tracy had smiled, and blushed then. "He's the man he was when I first met him. Full of himself and ready to take on the world." But a pain had filled her. "I made so many mistakes, though."

Ben wouldn't let her feel sorry for herself, a smile touching his lips. "I'm glad you got him back. You deserve the best."

Tracy had swallowed then, the sheer sweetness of the sentiment touching her deeply. She covered his hand with hers. "So do you, Benton Fraser."

Now Ben looked out over the cornfield, that sad, lonely look coming over his face again. The one that tore at Tracy's heart. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He blinked. "Nothing to be sorry for. I have a good life." He looked at her. "I'm a very lucky man." It was obvious he believed it, but Tracy still felt a little sad for him.

So, on that moment of advice, Tracy decided to ask Dwight if he had thought about starting a family. Well, it made Dwight so happy he wasn't truly fit to be around. Happy all the time. Not a natural state, but Tracy was getting used to it.

Now they were going to Chicago. Their last stop before they broke until next year. Ben had had solo offers, but he didn't seem interested in them. Said he was ready for a rest, too. That his father's cabin was looking real good to him. Besides they were a team, he didn't want to perform without Tracy and the band. It wouldn't feel the same.

That was just like him. He had no idea what a boost he had been to the band and their cache of fame. Not one clue. Benton Fraser attributed all their success to Dwight's skillful management, and Tracy and the band's experience. Tracy often wondered what he saw in the mirror in the morning 'cause he wasn't seeing the same thing everyone else saw.

Dwight had some good ideas. Had to hand it to him, she thought, once again adjusting her pillow. Excellent ideas.

>>><<<

Ray coulda been knocked over by a feather when Turnbull called him. He knew that Tracy and Fraser were coming to town, Fraser told him that a while ago. Kinda like their last hurrah, even if it was the first time Fraser was playing Chicago.

Out of the blue, Turnbull, recently elected as some kind of Canadian alderman-something, called him and suggested we throw a party for Fraser, celebrating his return to the Windy City. The city's not the only thing windy, Renfield, Ray thought as he listened to what the guy had in mind.

Yeah, Ray could do that. Round up some of Benton's friends. From the apartment on Racine, from the 2-7, from St. Catherine's, anybody Ray could think of. Guess he'd have to get Frannie to help with that. He was sure the Vecchios would wanna be a piece of that action.

Man, it was gonna be so good to see Fraser after all this time. Sure, hearing his voice over the phone, getting his letters, that was nice. Seeing him on TV was a kick, but it was kinda sad, too. Made him realize how far away he was. How he was really in another world now. Not the Canadian-other world, but the cowboy singing star-other world.

Still, it was nice that Fraser made the effort to stay in touch. Made Ray feel pretty darn good as a matter of fact. It'd been years since he'd had a friend like Fraser. Hell, he'd never had a friend like Fraser. Someone he could tell anything to, argue with, count on. And he was coming back to Chicago for a last concert before his hiatal. Hiatal? Hernia - nah. Hiatus. Whatever.

The point was: Fraser could be friends with anyone now. He had his picture taken with the President and the Prime Minister. He was a happening cat, yet he still made time for Ray. Nice, nice guy. Ray was a lucky guy.

Lucky.

Sure.

Lucky.

Christ. He'd been miserable. It wasn't that he was jealous of where Fraser'd been. Or what he'd done. It was cool, beyond cool. This kind of good couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

But, Ray missed him like he'd miss an arm. He missed sitting by a campfire in the heart of the city, ice fishing on the reservoir, swimming lessons, the whole nine yards.

Quit it, he shook himself. Picking up the phone, he paged Frannie's desk a few feet from his own. "Hey, Frannie, wanna help me with Fraser's welcome home party?" Magic words. Frannie swiveled her chair to look at him and he felt her smile wash onto him, and they sat grinning at each other like idiots.

>>><<<

The whole thing was gratifying really. Well, the sycophantic inspector now in charge of the Canadian Consulate was annoying, but Ben had grown used to that sort of fawning. Someone once said, "Everyone wants to stand beside you when you're shiny." In many respects, Ben had found that to be true.

But this party was a delight. Many Vecchios were there, including Ma Vecchio wielding her walker like a seasoned professional. Hard to imagine her flirting with Mr. Litvak from the KitKat Koral who was now confined to a wheel chair, but, as they say, hope springs eternal.

Mr. and Mrs. Mustafi looked well, so did the Gamezes. And Willie was graduating high school in the spring. Ben made a mental note to send him a gift. Maybe a car. He smiled at his own extravagance. Ray would call it an 'Elvis moment', he was sure.

The thought of Ray made Ben turn towards him, to find him cornered by Turnbull. Searching for an escape, Ray was scoping the room when his eyes lit on Fraser. The smile spread quickly, warming Ben to the core.

"Sorry, Turnbull, story's boring," but he said it with such humor that Turnbull couldn't feel offended. The rapport between the two men brought a sense of home to Fraser.

Ray looked splendid in his dark suit. The complementary shirt and tie were quite striking, as was the bright hair. He was apparently wearing spectacles all the time, the frames very modern and at the same time very Ray. He must have shaved in Fraser's honor, too. Standing with his arms folded across his chest, his old partner appeared much like the cover of a fashion magazine, yet relaxed. Fraser had missed him so much.

"He cleans up nice, huh, Fraser?" Francesca was there now, again someone was stepping between Ray and himself.

"That he does, Francesca." He was unwilling to take his attention from Ray, but for the sake of politeness, turned to her. She looked dazzling in a indigo blue frock. It brought a smile to his face. "You look lovely as well."

Blushing prettily, Francesca countered, "But you, you always look gorgeous." And Fraser blushed. Just a navy blue suit and a white shirt. The tie was plain. An impossibly young constable had taken his suit coat from him.

Now he stood, sleeves rolled up, hands buried deep in his pockets, accepting compliments from Francesca, much like the ones she gave him on a daily basis not so long ago. Ray's smile was knowing when he finally looked back at his friend.

"Uh, Frannie," Ray said, "should Dief and Ante be doing that in public?"

Francesca's head whipped around, ready to separate them, then she quickly looked back at Ray with what could only be described as calculation on her face. "I get it, Ray. Subtle."

To Ben's surprise, Ray placed a brotherly peck on her cheek, forcing a smile from her. "Thanks, Frannie."

After Francesca had moved on, Fraser leaned toward Ray's ear. "That wasn't very nice."

Ray couldn't help but smile. "I can't help it. I want some quality Fraser time."

Fraser smiled down on the bowed head, absorbing his own quality time. Wanting to touch so much, but aware of their all too public location.

"So, what are your plans after tonight? I mean, you going back to the Northern Areas?"

Fraser's smile deepened. "I had thought about going back for the breakup. Open the cabin for the summer."

Ray nodded. "Um, well, I - I took a week off. Was wondering, maybe, dunno, if you wanna do something together."

Taking a deep, satisfied breath, Fraser leaned down to Ray's ear. "I'd like that. What do you have in mind?"

"Ben, we better get going. We still have to do the sound check." Tracy really hated to interrupt, yet Ben knew she had to.

"Understood." He was still looking at Ray's bowed head. "Will you be come back stage after the show?"

Ray nudged him with his shoulder. "You bet, Benton-buddy."

Fraser smiled, and held his hand out for Ray to shake. Ray shook his head and engulfed him into a bear hug that nearly knocked him over. "Freak." Fraser hugged him back, savoring it for a moment.

>>><<<

Third row, center were great seats. Close enough to see everything, far enough back that you didn't strain your neck looking up anybody's nose. Ray settled in, with Frannie on one side and Lt. Welch on the other. And Dief at his feet.

Yeah, Dief and Fraser had had quite a row over Dief wanting to go to the concert on the bus with his friends instead of the limo with Fraser. Fraser had been outnumbered and now Dief was strewn across his and Frannie's feet. It was nice.

He tried to loosen his tie, but Frannie'd smacked his hands away. The collar button did get undone, so he leaned back in the soft seat and relaxed, ready for the concert to begin.

This was nice. All the people that came out for the show, to show Fraser that they really missed him. Didn't hurt that Tracy had arranged for a charter bus and a nice spread at the Consulate, but I think these guys would have come out for weenies and potato chips at the stock yards. Okay. Maybe not. Still, it was amazing the number of people they tracked down. Even Welsh's brother came up from East Jabip. It was nice.

But the best part was seeing Fraser. He missed the guy, missed him bad. Sure work went on. Yeah, Stella and Vecchio were back. That took some getting used to. He talked to Fraser every couple of days. Every now and then he'd get some cool present in the mail from some off the wall place. A pair of boots from Okalahoma City that pinched his toes, a belt with his name tooled in it from San Antonio, another poncho from Mexico City, a quilt from Indiana. After a while Ray stopped telling him not to waste his money and accepted the gifts. I mean if Fraser needed to give somebody stuff, it might as well be him.

And he kinda liked the belt.

The lights were going down and an excited hush came over the audience. Ray sat up, earning a muffled huff from Dief.

>>><<<

Ray leaned against the wall by the door, sipping a Canadian beer from a bottle. He lost the tie somewhere after the intermission, coiling it in his coat pocket. The glasses got old, too, and were gone. Some folks still milled around. Huey and Dewey boring everybody stiff with not-funny jokes. He'd been introduced to the mayor, who asked him if he were related to State's Attorney Kowalski. "Not anymore," he said. He couldn't help the smirk when he caught her eye across the room. He was surprised when she smirked back. Yeah, marriage to Vecchio had mellowed her, but good. Winking at her, he left the mayor to get another beer.

And he'd nursed this beer nearly an hour. He was content to stand in the corner and watch Fraser work the room. The guy was amazing. A nice word for everyone, deflecting all the lavish compliments with that humility that he always had going for him - it was artwork.

Fraser on the stage, that was something. He didn't move as stiff as he did way back when; he was, you know, more confident. Most of his songs were done at a mike on a stand, usually he worked his guitar, sometimes he stood with his hands in his pockets leaning into his microphone.

And that Has Been song. For that odd minute, Ray thought Fraser was looking at Frannie while he sang, but he wasn't. He was looking at Ray. If he didn't know how the guy felt before, shit, he knew now. So did anyone who was paying attention. Nothing like a public declaration, Fraze.

But it was good. It was real good. Better than good. Dopey grin was on his face when Fraser looked in his direction. Fraser answered with a smile, moving to stand in front of Ray. "Will you come back to my hotel with me?"

"You want to show me the view of Lake Michigan?"

"We've already seen the view of the Lake they call Michigan."

"Yeah, from underneath. Sure, Fraser, I'd love to go back to your hotel with you."

>>><<<

There probably was a great view, but it was dark and cloudy, the only water he saw was reflected lights at the lakeside. Standing at the balcony door, Ray nursed yet another beer. This one was more to keep his hands busy than to drink. He let Fraser hang up his suit coat and his sleeves were rolls up. He was winding down.

Fraser had gone into the other room to shower and change. Now or never. Do or die. Ray took a long pull on his beer. He watched Fraser's reflection when came out of the bedroom dressed in old jeans and a Henley. That was his Fraser. Why buy new clothes just because you could? That would be wasteful.

He couldn't help feeling a little self important. Fraser could have brought anybody home, but he didn't. Well, he could have, but he wouldn't have. That wouldn't be Fraser, wouldn't be the man he loved.

Loved. Wasn't that a kick in the head? Years of trying to figure out why this stupid friendship meant so much to him, and - bang - it hits him. Ray loved Fraser. Simple. Complicated. Cool.

Moving to stand close behind him, Fraser stared at Ray in their reflection. Ray met the intensity in his stare without flinching. Then Fraser took a step back. "Come on," Ray whispered. The nod almost didn't register, but Ray saw it and arms came around his waist.

Pulled back onto Fraser's chest felt good. So right. The lips on his ear sent a shiver down his spine. Ray lifted his cheek to Fraser's and rubbed it like a cat, wondering if Fraser just sighed or shuddered.

Took a minute for Ray to realize that Frazer is pulling his shirt tail out and opening a couple of buttons, a warm hand on the soft fur of his stomach feeling better than he expected. Ray knew he was shuddering, not sighing. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Will you--?" Fingers slid inside his waistband and no further, brushing the fur they found there.

"Hell, yeah," Ray groaned, turning around in Fraser's arms, sliding his own hands up the back of the loose shirt. God, his skin was hot. And smooth. Nudging the Henley collar with his nose, he applied his tongue to the skin working his way up to suckle on Adam's apple.

"Sh-shall we?" Fraser stuttered. His hands were now on the fine gabardine of Ray's suit trousers, propelling him into his erection.

"Do let's," Ray mocked, giving Fraser a shove backwards. "In bed." But Fraser didn't go very far, grasping Ray's face in his hands and pulling his mouth in for a kiss.

Gentle lips gave Ray the sweetness of the sweetest first kiss. Tentative nibbles gave way to insistent pressure. Opening his mouth willingly, he tasted the man he loved for so long. As their tongues arced from tentative to sizzling, Ray renewed his insistence that they move toward the bedroom, prodding Fraser backward.

Fraser stumbled, breaking the kiss. "At the risk of accidentally removing a tongue, I think we should move to the bedroom in a more conventional way."

Freak. Ray wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Good idea."

Lights were dimmed seductively in the large room. The bed was big, turned down, lots of pillows, inviting debauchery. I'm there, he thought as his hands went to his buckle. Ben moved to help him, his urgency bringing another smile to Ray. "Careful of the pants. This suit cost more than my first car."

"I'm nothing if not diffident," Fraser said even as he slowed down, carefully releasing the hook and unzipping.

Ray laughed as he shrugged his shirt off. "I bet you are, whatever that means."

Now Fraser was unlacing his shoes, and Ray wasn't laughing any more as he down at the man on his knees was way too erotic.

"It means-" he began.

"Rhetorical," Ray said through clenched teeth. Looking up to see Ray's expression had an effect on Fraser. "Ah," was all he managed.

Fraser stood, pants in hand, folding them expertly, not tearing his eyes from Ray for a minute. "Now you," Ray said, as his fingers reached for the hem of Fraser's shirt. The expensive trousers were forgotten and clothes were shucked without anymore pretense of restraint.

Shoulder to solar plexus, Ray tackled Fraser onto the enormous bed with a bounce. His mouth couldn't be everywhere at once, which was only frustrating. He settled for Ben's mouth, licking his lips until they opened for him. "God, you taste good." Fraser agreed in actions, wrenching a moan from Ray as he arched into Fraser's talented hands. "This'll be over quick, you know."

"Without a doubt," was the strained reply.

"So, let's just take care of it." Ray grasped both cocks in a loose grip and began pulling them to perfection.

"Pragmatic, Ray," Ben said between gritted teeth, huffing out great breaths.

"Fuck, yeah," Ray groaned through his own teeth. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." And he was there. He let go of Fraser when his horn started tooting, making sure that Fraser took over his own bliss as they both hit the wall, and went sailing through it.

It was quite a few minutes before the gasping turned to wheezing, and coherence returned. "Ch-rist, I feel like a twelve year old."

"No need to berate yourself, Ray-"

"Fraser, geeze, I understand, you don't get any for a while, you go off like a rocket. I get that." He elbowed himself into a sitting position. "Let's get the gunk off us and make love."

There were only a couple of times in Ray's life that he could call magical. Marrying Stella. Okay. That was one. When she walked down the aisle of the big Bowling for Jesus church, wearing that beautiful dress, she was his magical princess. All his.

Now. Right this minute, it was better. Better than he ever thought. Beautiful, gorgeous Fraser, even more beautiful and gorgeous naked, all rosy from coming. And the smile on his face, made him wonder what the hell he just said.

Love. Oh. He dipped his head, feeling nervous for the first time. "You know I do, right?" He paused. "Love you. You know I love you?" He looked up from under his brow wanting to see what Fraser might be thinking.

If his face was indication, Fraser was thinking 'happy'. "I had hopes."

He had hopes. Shit. "I guess I'm not so demonstrative."

Fraser ran a hand along Ray's arm down to his hand, which he grasped. Turning it palm up, he place his lips on it. The hair all over his body stood on end as Fraser began to lick his palm, then his wrist. The other hand was on Ray's chest pushing him back into the mountain of pillows.

Fraser's mouth was on him, tongue adding to the magic. He'd never felt anything like this before, like someone was paying homage to his body. Never, never would he get used to this. Now nipples were licked and, Christ, he tingled all over, all over. He raised a hand to Fraser's hair, wanting to touch but not to interrupt. "That's it. Perfect." It was perfect; how could it not be perfect? His nerve endings were sizzling as he watched the questing mouth work his way down his anatomy.

"Gross. Gross. Gross," he said, "You are *not* licking that cold junk off of me." He pulled hard at the hair wrapped around his fingers until Fraser raised his head to look at him. "That's disgusting."

"It's not disgusting." The sureness, the certainty awed Ray. "Okay," he muttered, "If you wanna."

Amazing. Ray just lay back on the pillows and gave it up.

>>><<<

Worshiping an the altar of his love was a clichd metaphor, but there was no other description at this point. Hours of fantasy in lonely beds the world over did little to prepare him for actual performance. Ray was just too wonderful. And his taste.

That defied description.

Lapping at his pectorals and nipples was stimulating to Ray, his abdomen quivered at the exploration of his tongue. And the taste of his essence. Amazing. After all the things Ray had seen him put in is his mouth, Fraser was surprised at the squeamishness. After all, Fraser knew where *that* had been.

How could Ray think he would be disgusted? They still had so much to learn about one another.

Working his way south, Fraser lapped at Ray's inner thighs, marveling at the texture of flesh and fur. The pelt was thicker here, a darker blond. The scent heady and delightful. He nudged his nose around the scrotum, rolling with the undulations of the man under him. Surrounded by scent and taste, Fraser was beyond happiness and would soon be sliding into unfit to be around.

The penis was as finely proportioned as Ray was. Grasping the base, Fraser licked at it as if it were candy. It pulsed under his tongue, stating it's desires plainly. Engulfing the heat with his mouth, Ben took what he wanted. What he'd wanted, needed for so long. Years of frustration, of desire were now to be satisfied and Fraser wasn't waiting another minute to immerse himself in his fondest desire.

"Holy shit." Beautiful, profane man. "Yeah, God, yeah. That's right." The mantra increased when he moved his fingers to the soft scrotum, teasing them with the scrape of his nails. The thighs spread further in an invitation Ben could not pass up. He moved his head closer.

"Do not put your tongue there," Ray ordered. Ben froze. "Fingers are fine, your dick is fine, but the tongue waits until after I've had a shower or something."

Ben couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "As you wish," he said, and licked two fingers before applying them.

"Yeah, just like that."

Working silently and diligently, Ben prepared Ray, listening for clues. "Please. You're killing me, Fraser. I need-" Ray's clues were easy to follow and Ben understood need all too well.

He moved across the big bed to get the supplies from the night table drawer. The lube was half used, but the condoms had been hopeful for sometime.

Rolling the latex over his heated flesh made Ben hiss. A blue eye opened. "You okay there, Benton-buddy?"

"Okay is too mild a word." He bit his lip not to cry out as he slathered on cool gel.

The eye closed as a smile spread across Ray's face. "I hear ya." He pulled a pillow out from behind his head and placed it under his hips. "I'm all yours."

Ben's sigh was deep and rich. He had to grasp his penis quite sternly to keep from coming too quickly, savoring the pain that took the edge away. Crawling up to the precious body, he pushed at Ray's knees to nudge them further open. Positioning himself at the opening, Ben teased Ray a few minutes, watching him.

Long fingers grasped the weeping cock, a thumb lubricated by pre-ejaculate slid easily across the glans. The other thumb strummed a pebbling nipple. The eye opened again. "You aren't going to get anymore invitation than this."

Easing forward until he was propped on his hands, Ben stared into the two now open eyes. He tilted is head to angle for a kiss as he pushed slowly into Ray. With infinite care, and a patience he didn't know he still possessed, Ben felt something he'd never thought he'd feel, a heat that he'd only dreamed of. The entire sensual package overtook him: eyes drank the sight of Ray's flushed face, ears feasted on the sounds of arousal. He could almost hear their skin touching. All he could feel was the fiery excitement of his nerve endings singing through his skin with every pulse of his heart.

Sinking deep within the golden man, Ben let out a sigh that quickly turned into a moan as Ray writhed underneath him. "Do it, man. Do it." 'It' obviously referred to 'the deed' and, to use the vernacular, Ben was all over that. Pacing his thrusts to build momentum and maximize enjoyment for both of them, he felt the burn start deep within him and rise with a heat that took all thought away, scorching his soul.

With a final grunt and thrust, he surged into Ray and felt the stiffening of the body beneath his, his muscles contracting to grip him, wring him dry. Ben was vaguely aware of screaming as he spilled his warmth into Ray.

>>><<<

Well, at least he didn't embarrass himself by passing out or nothing, Ray thought as his heart rate came out of tachycardia and settled back into knocking against his chest like a hammer. Fraser was still collapsed against him, his head rising on his chest with every breath. Amazing that he could feel like this.

Sex was always good, but he could never call it spectacular. This? This was fireworks.

Fraser pushed himself up to look at Ray, a dopey drunk look on his face that made Ray's heart clutch. Yep. The whole thing was amazing. Ray went with Fraser when he tried to roll off him. Now on top, he placed a peck on the tip of Fraser's nose. "That was great, buddy. How about a shower?"

Taking a deep, satisfied breath, Fraser nodded. And licked his lips.

"Freak." Ray smacked the top of his lover's head, but the sweat damp hair was stuck to Ben's skull and didn't bounce back. Just made him smile more as he pushed off of Fraser, and the bed, to his feet. "We're not going there tonight; the spirit might be willing, but the flesh is wasted."

"Understood," Fraser said, following Ray into the bathroom. Ray stood in front of the two toilets, scratching his head. "Bidet," Fraser supplied before he could be asked.

"Uh huh," Ray said and looked around the room. There was a gigant-o tub and a shower built for two. Lavish with a capital "L". "You stay in ritzy places like this all the time, Fraze?"

Fraser looked up from adjusting the spray in the shower, a little chagrined. "No, this is a little elaborate for my tastes."

"Try decadent."

"Yes, decadent is apt." He appeared to be satisfied with the temperature and pressure, gesturing Ray to proceed him into the water.

"So, what's the occasion?" Ray was sniffing at the various shampoo and conditioner bottles lined up on the chest high shelf. He looked up when Fraser didn't answer right away. The guy was judiciously soaping up a wash cloth, careful not to look at Ray. "The occasion?" he prodded.

Fraser cleared his throat. Then twisted his neck in a resounding crack. Ray's brows went up. "Well, you see-" Ray cocked his head, waiting. Fraser's eyes narrowed to show his resolve. His chin came up. "It's the Honeymoon Suite."

Ray blinked. And again. "No shit?"

"None."

You know, Ray thought, it *could* get better. Seemed like it got better expo-geo-in leaps and bounds. He moved in on Fraser, crowding him against the marble wall of the shower stall, just out of the water's spray. The soapy wash cloth hit the floor between their feet with a splat as Ray's mouth claimed Fraser's with tenderness and heat. His heart was lost, gone forever; it belonged to Benton Fraser-he was just sealing the deal.

They broke apart only because they had to breathe. Ben brought Ray close, pulling them under the water's spray. "Do you think you could take more than a week off?"

What kind of question was that? Ray frowned. "Sure, I got a lot of time coming. How much time do you want?"

Fraser took a deep, unsure breath. "Forever?"

Ray's mouth opened, then closed it before saying. "Forever? Like in - *forever*?"

He looked into the very solemn face, before resting his forehead against Fraser's. "Yes," Fraser finally whispered.

"Forever." He savored the word, knowing that this time, with this man, forever meant forever with a guy like Fraser. "I like the sound of that."

"Then you'll go with me to the Yukon?"

Nodding against Fraser's head, he allowed tears to fall. Not like they were easily distinguishable from the warm water that cascaded over them. Happy tears. Yep. Happy tears. He eased himself out Fraser's arms to get a good look at his face. Yeah, his eyes were bright, too. Some happy tear action for Fraser. He placed a soft kiss on the lips he loved and said, "I feel sorry for anyone who isn't me tonight. They have no idea."

Tomorrow, they'd have lots of things to do, plans to make, loose ends to scramble after and tie up, but right here, right now they shared a long, loving kiss, sealing forever between them.

The end.

Like it? Hate it? Tell me at BJCochran@aol.com

End Anyone Who Isn't Me Tonight by BJCochran: BJCochran@aol.com

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