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The Burnham Triangle, Part 1: Everything's Changed

Ray Kowalski danced with Stella, on the restaurant boat, just as he had the night Stella and Alderman Orsini were almost blown to bits by the champagne bottle bomb. But this time there was no exploding bottle. No Alderman Orsini. And no Fraser to save the day, because the day didn't need saving.

Ray felt light as air, and Stella was light as air. They danced off the boat onto the surface of the water. The Chicago skyline shimmered in the dark behind them, and swirled around them as they twirled and waltzed. His heart was light, his feet sure and swift. The water was a spongy surface below them, like a wet lawn after a spring rain.

His shoulder was warm under Stella's arm, her back lithe and warm under his palm. He looked into her eyes, those beautiful green eyes. But they looked sad just now. Since she had become his ex-wife -- no, even before that -- her eyes often had a sad look. That is, when they didn't have an annoyed look -- directed at him.

And then suddenly he was slowly sinking, his feet like lead. They slowed down in the waltz, like a projector jamming right before the film starts to burn. The water was over his ankles, approaching his knees. He clutched Stella to him, to save her. She struggled to free herself from his arms, as he held her tighter. But his fear for her safety was rapidly replaced by panic for himself -- he couldn't swim, had never learned. He was really going down now -- the water was at his hips. Whatever was drawing him down continued inexorably pulling him, as if cartoon anvils were tied to his ankles. As if he were being sucked down a giant dark drain in Grant Park harbor.

The water was at his chest now and Stella slipped out of his arms. The water splashed up his neck. She swam a few feet away and watched him sadly as he began to flail. The water was up to his chin. He took a great gasp of air, getting a spluttering mouthful of water as the increasing waves closed over his head. He looked up through the murky surface of the water. He saw the dark shadow of Stella silhouetted by the fuzzy blur of boat, skyscraper and harbor lights.

He was losing air, he realized, and tiring himself out faster by flailing. It was hopeless anyway -- since he couldn't swim, he was certainly going to drown. He sank further and darkness -- the night, the deep water -- closed out all light. His body grew limp as his chest felt like it would burst. Blue and pink sparkles shifted before his eyes.

And then suddenly he was roughly grabbed by the shoulders. A mouth was fiercely pressed to his, and a tongue thrust his lips apart. He fought, crazed and fearful. But then warm breath entered his mouth, with brackish Lake Michigan water seeping in at the imperfect seal between their lips.

He gasped, sputtering, and his struggling turned to a desperate clinging to the body of his savior. Two hands gently tilted his head and pulled his mouth closer, tightening the seal. Ray breathed in carefully, making sure he inhaled only through his mouth. His panic ebbed and he relaxed, opening his eyes. The water was no longer dark, but inexplicably blue green and shot through with sunlight. He was looking directly into the watery but clear blue eyes of his erstwhile partner, Royal Canadian Mounted Police Constable Benton Fraser.

Fraser's short hair wafted around his head like a wreath underwater. He slowly pulled his lips from Ray's while pushing Ray's chin up to shut his mouth, so no water would get in. Ray was stunned, but had no time to think -- Fraser surfaced, dragging Ray up with him by the collar.

It seemed to take forever for Fraser to get to the surface with him. Ray felt the water streaming strongly past him and yet, again, it was as if it were happening in slow motion. When they finally broke the surface, Ray was seeing stars again. He squeezed his eyes shut against the bright sunlight, gasping and heaving blindly. He'd never loved air so much before. With strong kicks and strokes, Fraser pulled Ray to shore.

They stumbled heavily up onto Oak Street Beach -- the Gold Coast -- the Drake Hotel facing them from across Lake Shore Drive. Ray collapsed onto the sand, face to the blue sky. Ragged breathing and the chill air made him shudder. The sand under him was warm, though, from the sun. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the flash of red as Fraser removed his serge jacket and threw it on him for warmth. Fraser's arm extended across Ray's chest, and Ray grabbed it.

"What was that?" he demanded of Fraser.

"What was what?" Fraser responded, still leaning over him, concerned blue eyes looking down into his. Ray looked up at his face. It was surreally clear and bright against the blue sky.

"That thing you were doing with your mouth," Ray continued, coughing.

"Oh that. Buddy breathing."

"Buddy breathing?"

"Yes, well, you seamed to be in a -- having a bit of a problem, I have excess lung capacity... it's standard operating procedure."

"All right, all right," Ray mumbled, his pounding heart calming from the fear an d confusion. "So then, nothing's, like, changed between us?" he asked Fraser uncertainly. Squinting into those compelling blue eyes, Ray glanced at Fraser's pursed lips and wrinkled brow. A strange feeling of deja vu overcame Ray.

"On the contrary, Ray," Fraser said quietly, his expression clearing into a neutral one. "Everything's changed." And he leaned down and softly pressed his lips to Ray's, letting his chest rest on Ray's.

Pinned as he was, stunned and still disoriented, Ray did nothing. He accepted the kiss. When Fraser began moving his lips against Ray's, Ray began to stir. His right hand was confined between their chests, under Fraser's red serge uniform jacket. He raised his free hand to Fraser's shoulder, to push him off. But Fraser grabbed that wrist, forcing it back to the sand gently but firmly. His kiss moved more urgently on Ray's mouth, demanding response.

Ray closed his eyes again, thinking 'I was right, he is unhinged', but found his lips responding as if they had a will of their own. He tried to imagine Stella was kissing him, but her image wouldn't come in clearly. He found himself inexplicably opening his mouth to accept Fraser's tentative tongue. Then he felt himself stiffening, his wet, itchy jeans suddenly constricting.

In shock, Ray's eyes shot open. Fraser opened his eyes at the exact same time, and their gazes locked. And at that moment, Ray knew that Fraser knew that Ray had become aroused. Ray felt the next throb of his heart throughout his entire body. His throat constricted with a lump of fear, excitement, shame, and longing. Fraser released his pinned wrist slowly, and paused in his kiss.

A moment's hesitation... Ray closed his eyes, feeling weightless, feeling time had stopped. And then his warring desires propelled the previously pinned wrist up, and he was pulling Fraser down for a hot wet soul kiss. He felt the Mountie's slick wet hair under his fingers. The soaked thighs of his jeans warmed under the sun. His jeans became even more constricting as his arousal swelled, and then his body jerked ---

Ray Kowalski jerked awake in the blue, pre-dawn darkness. He had kicked the covers off. The cool air in his bedroom chilled the thin sheen of sweat on his skinny legs. His T-shirt was wet under his armpits and on his chest. He sat up, his erection tenting his briefs. He grabbed the blankets and pulled them up to his chin, sinking back down into the bed.

What the hell was that? he asked himself. I should never have asked my mom about the DA Stella's dating. That's why I had that weird dream. It mixed the scare on the freight ship with the last time he'd seen Stella for more than passing moments in the precinct... And with some other weird Fraser shit. He purposely thought of Stella, her lithe arms and sweet, quick smile. But the image -- the feeling of the dream kiss on the beach with Fraser -- broke into that thought. Irritated, Ray sat up and punched his pillows, rearranging them for comfort, and flopped back down onto them.

He gritted his teeth and thought of Stella. Of kissing Stella. And his hand crept to pull his briefs down and grab his cock. He was determined to think only of Stella, and did, successfully. But even as he approached orgasm, his thoughts of Stella turned from sexual to mournful... wistful... sad. And then suddenly, again, the "buddy breathing" incident on the freighter popped into his mind. His hand still moved mechanically on his cock. The buddy breathing faded into Fraser 's kiss on the dream beach... Ray groaned from the mingled sadness and excitement and shame, his hand moving faster. Unable now to stop, his orgasm was inevitable. His body jerked involuntarily for some moments.

Afterward, his heart beat and breathing slowing, he alternated worrying about these thoughts of Fraser and obsessing about the new man in Stella's life. He shivered in bed. 'I'm getting a cold. That's what it is, I'm getting sick,' he thought to himself.

"I'm feverish," he said aloud, though there was no one to hear. "That's why I got all sweaty," he muttered.

Again he deliberately thought of Stella. He recalled her with him in various positions -- gasping under him, straddling him -- even though it was bittersweet to think of such things. As he began to relax back into sleep, he clung to those thoughts. But swimming just below the surface of that thought was Fraser 's buddy breathing. Then the dream kiss on the beach darted in and out, momentarily blocking out thoughts of Stella, and then retreating. Ray fell back asleep and twitched fitfully for a couple more hours, before the light came and his alarm jarred him into another day.

* * *

The Burnham Triangle, Part 2: Okay Then

The ringing of Ray K.'s cellular phone woke Constable Fraser from his fitful sleep. In the darkness and confusion of just waking up, he looked about him, seeing blank walls and realizing he was sleeping on a bedroll on the floor. The phone emitted another piercing electronic ring. He fumbled for it in the rumpled red sleeping bag next to him. Finally he had the gadget, flipped it open and pressed the button.

"Ray Vecchio's cellular phone," he said as he put it up to his ear. "Benny?" came the familiar voice. Fraser's heart jumped into his throat and began pounding.

"Benny? Are you there?" came Ray Vecchio's -- the real Ray Vecchio's -- voice again. Fraser finally found his voice.

"Ray?" he half whispered. It had been so long since he'd heard Ray Vecchio's voice.

"Yeah, Benny, it's me. Listen, I can't talk long. But I had to call," Ray's voice vibrated through the phone.

"Ray, I--" Fraser began, and then abruptly stopped. Light from the bathroom momentarily blinded him and Ray Kowalski stepped into the room. The room Turnbull had decided not to rent, Fraser realized. But the last time they'd been here, they'd had a protected federal witness with them. What were they doing here now? And why was he lying here in his union suit?

"Benny," Vecchio interrupted Fraser again, as Ray K. shut off the bathroom light. He stepped over Fraser to his red sleeping bag. He wore nothing but a T-shirt and briefs. Kowalski sat down next to Fraser, pulling the sleeping bag up to Fraser's bedroll. Ray V. continued, "Benny, I gotta... I mean... Listen." Vecchio paused.

"Yes?" Fraser began, but then Ray K. curled up to him, draping an arm and a leg over his chest and his thighs. Fraser tensed all over, shocked.

"You know that I'm undercover here, Benny," Vecchio continued more quietly. Fraser felt Ray K.'s warm breath in his ear; while Ray Vecchio's voice continued in his other ear. "You know, I might be required to do some... things while undercover."

"Things," Fraser repeated numbly. Why on earth was Ray Kowalski wrapped around him?? Not that, strictly speaking, it was unpleasant... it was just very unusual and highly unlikely. And yet Ray K. was curled up to him.

"Yeah, you know. Things. And, Benny, I know I left you alone, with no real explanation. I never got the chance to really say good-bye or why I was leaving. "

"Yes, well--" Fraser started again, then nearly jumped out of his skin when Ray Kowalski began unbuttoning his union suit.

"What's wrong witchoo?" Ray K. whispered, feeling Fraser freeze. Fraser looked over at him, feeling the slow creep of warmth up his chest and neck to his hairline. Thank God for the semi-darkness; Kowalski wouldn't be able to see him blushing.

"Ray, I had a feeling you couldn't speak freely about your departure when we spoke last," Fraser said to Vecchio.

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to let you know that I love you. And I miss you." Ray Vecchio paused.

"And I, you," Fraser responded, then nearly dropped the phone in shock as he felt Ray Kowalski's hand slip under his union suit to stroke down his chest, and his belly, to rest on his hip. Using Fraser's hip as a handle, the detective pulled Fraser's body tightly against his. He gripped the Mountie's body with the leg he'd draped over it. Fraser felt the warmth of Kowalski's arousal swelling slowly against him. The friction of his leg over Fraser's groin was beginning to arouse Benton.

"Benny, I didn't wanna leave, but I hadda go," Vecchio continued. "I left you in the lurch."

"No you didn't, Ray," the Mountie replied, then couldn't continue because the detective slid his straddling leg down, and his warm hand caressed Fraser's inner thigh, then slid upward slightly to grasp his slowly lengthening and thickening organ.

"Yeah, I did, Benny. And I'm sorry. And I don't know when we're going to see each other again," Ray V. went on. Fraser quickly turned to look at Kowalski, who was smiling sheepishly as he caressed him. Fraser reached down with his free hand and grasped Kowalski's wrist. Ray K.'s eyebrows frowned at him, then screwed together into a question.

Vecchio continued, "I know you'll get lonely. I mean, I'm lonely. I miss you. I guess before, I didn't know what I was missing, but now... anyways, if you were to, uh, you know, I just want you to know it's okay and I understand. Because I hope you would understand if I.... I mean, I might have to, so I don't blow my cover," Ray continued awkwardly.

"Ray. I think I understand what you're saying," Fraser said calmly, at least as calmly as he could, while he spoke on the phone to his known lover and simultaneously inhabited an alternate universe where Ray Kowalski was also his lover -- a lover whose wrist he currently grasped, to make Ray desist from caressing him. Ray K., momentarily stymied, rocked his pelvis against Fraser's hip rhythmically, pressing that stiff but yielding erection against him in disconcertingly urgent way. "No, Ray," Fraser went on, "I wouldn't hold it against you. I would understand. There are... things... things that arise, uh, that arise between men--"

"Benny, look. You're good looking. I'm the one who seduced you, but I'm sure you've had your share of offers. So if what you're trying to say is it's already happened, forget it."

"But, Ray! I--" Fraser protested, feeling Kowalski's hardness thrusting gently against him. He still held Ray K.'s wrist, and the detective's hand still encircled his half-mast organ.

"Benny," Ray interrupted, "I'm not asking for explanations or excuses. And I don't wanna know the details. Just... remember it's okay, I understand, and I figured it was gonna happen eventually, if I was gone too long. And besides, nothing can ever break what we have between us," Vecchio finished. "Right?" he added, rather plaintively.

Fraser looked from Kowalski to the ceiling, and closed his eyes. He imagined Ray Vecchio next to him. He imagined Ray's hand in his union suit. He felt himself getting more physically aroused at the same time as he felt increasingly guilty.

"Right, Ray," he answered firmly and loudly, "nothing can ever break what we have between us."

Kowalski withdrew his hand from Fraser's grasp and union suit, and rolled onto his back, away from Fraser. He stared at the ceiling. Fraser opened his eyes, to look at the open bulb in the ceiling fixture above them. The slim detective's breathing seemed overly loud.

"Thanks, Benny," the voice on the cell phone murmured. "I needed to hear that. Listen, I really gotta go. I miss you. And I love you. Whatever happens, remember that."

"I will Ray, and --"

"I know, Benny. I know. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, Ray," Fraser said to the click on the line. He pressed the End button and slowly flipped the phone shut.

"That was Vecchio," Ray Kowalski said next to him, still staring at the ceiling. It was not a question. It was a statement.

"Yes." The silence between them lengthened.

"Look, Fraser," Ray K. began, and rolled onto his side, propping his head on an elbow. "I got no illusions about this. I wasn't expecting it, you weren't expecting it, it's just..." he trailed off.

Fraser turned to look at him, but couldn't, and looked away to the ceiling again.

"I wasn't expecting that phone call," he said to Ray K. He looked over at him again, but avoided Ray's eyes. "It's been months since I heard from him and I thought it would be many more months before I did."

"I know that," Ray interrupted, "Fraser, I know that. I know you care about him more than me." Fraser looked over in protest, and rolled onto his side to fully look at Kowalski.

"Don't Fraser. I know it, you know it, I'm not expecting any... kind of long term..." he trailed off a moment, then said, "I don't know what to expect. I don't know where this is goin'. But let's... let's enjoy it while we have it. Right? Okay?"

"Alright," Fraser said quietly, his head propped, mirroring Ray K.'s position. "Okay then."

Ray K. slowly broke into that endearing grin, and Fraser sighed, disoriented. How did this happen? How did I get here with Ray?? he wondered.

"Okay, then," Ray K. repeated, and slid close to Fraser, pulling his union suit open and exposing his chest. Fraser hesitated and held his breath. But Ray leaned forward and kissed his chest, slowing pushing him onto his back. He kissed the Mountie down his chest to his navel, his belly...

Fraser, head still raised, watched in bewilderment and increasing excitement. Watched as Ray got up on his knees to lean over and undo the last buttons at Fraser's crotch. How can this be happening? Fraser wondered again, even as he shivered in excitement. Ray K. looked up at Fraser and winked, and then in one fluid motion engulfed Fraser with his mouth.

Fraser exhaled forcefully through clenched teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head thump back on the floor. His hands instinctively went into Ray K.'s just-woke-up hair. This felt as shocking and pleasurable as it had the first time Ray Vecchio had done this to him. As his excitation built, Fraser lifted his head again to watch Ray K. He saw Ray eyeing him, and felt Ray's neck muscles relax to let Fraser control his movements. Involuntary tears glistened at the corners of Ray's eyes. Fraser's fingers involuntarily tightened in Ray's hair. Their eyes met briefly across his belly, just before Fraser spasmed and jerked, groaning, and threw his head back and --

Fraser jerked awake in his room at the consulate, the dream images and sensations still vivid even as he saw the room, saw the blue darkness of early morning. His hand crept down to feel himself, but although he was aroused -- painfully aroused -- nothing else had happened. He rolled onto his side, unable to put the images out of his mind.

Ray Kowalski?? Why was he dreaming of Ray K. that way? And surely Ray Vecchio and he would never have such a conversation in real life. They'd never even actually discussed it, much less made vows to each other. It was just... assumed, at least Fraser assumed, that they would only be with each other, although obviously with Ray gone, and undercover, certain things might be required, certain things, so perhaps the dream Vecchio's understanding and forgiving--

Stop that, Fraser told himself. You can't think of Ray K. that way; he isn't like you and you can't tell him. You don't want to tell him. It is not a wise idea.

But still Fraser couldn't forget the image of that wiry frame and tousled spiky head curved over his hips, pleasuring him. He tossed the covers off, and strode over to the closet. He stood before it for a while, his hand over his eyes.

Then he opened the door, and looked in, but all he saw was the back of the closet. He leaned against the door jamb and sighed and closed his eyes. He stood there for some time.