Author's disclaimer: Although the story is mine, it is a work of fiction based on the character of Due South. All Characters portrayed here belong to Alliance. Please do not print/copy/download or send any part of this story to anyone else, other than for your personal enjoyment. Thank you.

Author's notes: This is part one of a two-part story. There is some language and violence that would not be appropriate for younger readers, thus the R rating. Please read on and I hope you enjoy it.

Please contact me at perrymor@home.net

I welcome any comments about my story.

By; T.M. Perrymore

Ray pulled the GTO silently up to the old three-story home and switched off the engine. It had taken them almost an hour to find the secluded mansion that set far out among the trees on a large cliff. The winding dirt road they had used to get there didn't do much for Ray's nerves and seeing the errie house silhouetted against the glow of the setting sun didn't exactly calm him. Fraser had already started to get out of the car, so he figured he should follow, but something about that house kept him in his seat. Fraser glanced back.

"Coming Ray?" he inquired calmly as he released Diefenbaker from the back seat and placed his Stetson on his head. Ray slowly got out of the car.

"I dunno, Fraser." he hedged. "Why the hell would Jennings be holed up way out here anyway?"

"It's actually a very good place to hide, Ray." Insisted Fraser as they approached the cracked stone steps that led to the front door. "It's far outside the city and believed to be abandoned. There is ample foliage to cover an escape if need be and according the local lore it is rumored to be haunted. Who would look for someone here?" Ray hadn't liked the sound of that.

"Haunted, Fraser?" he repeated uneasily as a hoot owl sounded starling the detective into drawing his gun and swinging around. "What was 'dat?" Fraser raised an eyebrow as they reached the door.

"An owl, Ray." He informed. "They are night creatures." Ray didn't bother to correct him that it wasn't yet evening. Fraser waited for his partner to catch up to him on the porch; Diefenbaker waited anxiously by his side.

"Y'know, I saw a house like this in a movie once." Enlightened Ray.

"Oh?" returned Fraser curious, as he handed Kowalski a flashlight. "Was it an interesting story?"

"Yah, sort of. Not really." replied Ray. "This guy dressed up like his dead mother to kill people." Fraser stared at him a moment.

"Why would he do that?"

"How the hell do I know?" retorted Ray as Fraser slowly opened the door. "It was a movie." Ray winced as the door creaked to allow then entry, just as Diefenbaker wined pathetically. "What's wrong with the wolf?" Fraser spoke to the animal with a sigh.

"Don't be ridiculous." He scolded. "There are no such things."

"No such things as what Fraser?" demanded Ray quickly.

"Never mind Ray," replied the Mountie. "He's just being silly." Ray's voice went an octave higher than normal, a sure sign he was excited.

"No such things as what, Fraser?" he repeated firmly.

"Ghosts, Ray." Acknowledged Fraser. Diefenbaker thinks this place is actually haunted. He can be such a baby sometimes." Fraser didn't believe mentioning the odd appearance if his own dead Father from time to time would help the situation.

"Ghosts." Repeated the detective, aloud, as Fraser stepped across the threshold. "Er.. Fraser? Maybe we should come back later, like ah..the morning or somethin'."

"Don't be silly Ray." His partner returned from the darkness. "There's nothing to fear but fear its self." Kowalski gulped, took a few deep breaths, cursed his own imagination and stepped inside. Fraser was already a few feet down the darkened hallway, his flashlight cutting a golden beam through the dust filled atmosphere. Ray followed quietly. Suddenly the front door slammed shut and they were engulfed in a sullen darkness, with only the small beams of light escaping through the rotted boards of the windows. They exchanged a suspicious glance.

"Just the wind." Opted Fraser moving forward.

"Yah." Agreed Ray reluctantly. "Just the wind." He glanced back at the door, then flashed his light in front of him toward his partner, but his partner was no longer there. "Fraser? Fraser!" The Mountie suddenly appeared in the beam at the frantic cry.

"Yes Ray?" he inquired calmly, as Ray started breathing again.

"Don't do that!" he insisted feeling his heart pounding against his chest. He usually didn't react so strongly over a simple thing like a haunted house. Haunted houses were not a problem, they couldn't hurt him, and it was the ghosts that bothered him, the memories that scared him, not the house itself. He hurried forward to find his partner who had wandered into what was most likely the parlor.

"Over here, Ray." Announced Fraser from the corner of the room, where he was kneeling to inspect something. Kowalski and Diefenbaker approached and glanced down to where Fraser's beam pointed. On the hard wood floor, thick with dust, was a pair of footprints.

"Someone else has been here." muttered Ray surveying the ancient room with a quick twist of his torch. There came a loud creaking above them and Ray's hand instinctually went for his gun.

"And may still be here." whispered Fraser, finishing his partner's thought. They returned to the hallway and found a set of long plantation style staircase that curved upward toward the second floor. Diefenbaker trotted on ahead as Ray and Fraser cautiously ascended the lofty stairwell. They heard another creak, louder this time just as they reached the first landing. Continuing upward they kept their lights trained on the path above them, looking to catch sight of the intruder. Diefenbaker stopped as they reached the second landing and began to growl menacingly. Ray directed his beam to the side of the long hallway the wolf's warning had come, just as a shadow ducked into one of the rooms.

At the sound of the closing door, he and Fraser hurried after the shadow. They paused by the door, Diefenbaker was next to them still growling as they took up opposite sides of the door. Fraser turned the knob and found it locked as Ray brought his gun higher against him. He nodded to Fraser, indicating he was ready and Fraser kicked at the door, sending it flying backward as Ray blocked the doorway, his weapon and torch trained ahead.

"Chicago PD!" he revealed, but there was no one there to receive him. His torch swept the room revealing nothing but a sheet draped dresser and an aged bed and mattress. Diefenbaker ran in and stood baring his teeth at the wall beside the dresser and Fraser went to investigate. Ray relaxed slightly and lowered his weapon.

"What is it, boy?" encouraged Fraser, receiving a whine from the wolf. Ray frowned at the pair and questioned him.

"What're ya doin' Frase?" Fraser continued to feel along the wall.

"Looking for a panel switch." He informed as his fingers guided along the smooth molding in the middle. "The person must have gone through here, Diefenbaker can sense him."

"Fraser," sighed Ray moving further into the room. 'That's a wall. There ain't no way he went through a solid wall unless he's Houdini or somethin'."

"Not necessarily Ray." Countered Fraser, moving the dusty sheet aside as he started to pull out the various drawers in the dresser. "Some times these old houses had trap doors or secret passageways that opened up into another area of the house." He moved to the bed and inspected the tarnished brass knobs on the bedpost. He turned one and the wall slid open, revealing a darkened passageway.

"Hey, cool!" remarked Ray as Diefenbaker scrambled forward after his prey.

"Indeed." Concurred Fraser as they to stepped behind the wall and felt it shut tightly behind them. Ray glanced back and smirked.

"Freaky." He concluded, then turned to follow his partner down the narrowing passageway. The ceiling seemed to get shorter as they moved along and with the narrowing of the walls, in just a few minutes they could barely fit individually down the path. Ray was starting to get claustrophobic and the air surrounding them was stifling hot with the strong sense of mildew. He kept his light trained on the brown jersey ahead of him, wishing for once that Fraser had worn his red uniform instead, it was much easier to see.

"See anything?" he asked quietly.

"Sshssh." Fraser instructed, stopping suddenly. "Do you hear that?" Ray listened but heard nothing but his own hear beating.

"Hear what?" he demanded, knowing he didn't possess the keen hearing the Mountie did. "What do you hear?"

"It sounds like..." Fraser paused. "Running water." Ray shrugged.

"So maybe we're near the kitchen and someone left the tap running." He suggested.

"This house has been abandoned for over ten years." Stated Fraser. "There are no utilities to run the water." Suddenly Ray could hear it to, a trickling sound, just as a loud thump sounded from somewhere ahead.

"Com'on." He urged, squeezing past Fraser, who automatically put out a hand to catch him from going further.

"Ray wait..." he warned. He suddenly felt Ray's arm slip from his grasp as the floor gave way beneath them and the plummeted downward it what felt like a giant suction tube.

"Fraser!" screamed Ray from ahead of him.

"Ray!" called Fraser from behind.

Ray felt his gun and torch slip from his grasp as he shot downward at an alarming speed, his arms and legs bouncing and sliding off the interior or the tube with nothing to grab a hold of to stop his descent.

"Put your elbows against the side." called Fraser, his voice echoing against the walls. "It will slow you down." Ray tried to do just that but he couldn't get his bearings long enough as the tube twisted and turned pushing him head first or feet first at any given second.

Suddenly Ray seemed to be flying through the air and a second later he heard the splash as his body hit a pool of water. He started to sink quickly and pushed upward with all his strength, toward the dim light above him. He broke through the surface and quickly dispelled the mouthful of water he had swallowed on his initial landing.

"Fraser!" he gasped, treading water, as he glanced around him. There was a light coming from somewhere and he recognized a familiar looking ledge. He was in a pool! An indoor pool. He swam closer to the ledge and called for Fraser again, just as a hand appeared to help him up out of the water. He grinned at the Mountie and accepted the offering, hauling himself onto the deck. Fraser was shaking out his hat as Ray lay on his back, catching his breath and stared up at the large solarium type window above them, the moon shining brightly to light their way.

"Are you alright Ray?" Fraser was asking, leaning over him concerned, as a very wet Diefenbaker shook the moisture from his fur and proceeded to lick the detective's face.

"Gah!" he spat pushing the animal away from him in disgust. "I'm wet enough ya dumb dog!" Fraser repeated his question as he helped Kowalski to his feet. Ray nodded as he struggled to upward, trying to ignore the sudden weight of his sodden clothes.

"Yah," he confirmed. "Where are we?" Fraser stood and surveyed the area.

"It seems to be recreation area, though it obviously hasn't been used in years. I believe it's kept running by an underwater spring, which could have been the water I heard earlier." He retrieved the torch he'd been able to secure to his belt during their fall and shot it's beam across the landing, revealing a set of double doors. There were no other tracks but their own against the layer of dirt on the floor, so they surmised their suspect didn't come this way.

"Sure." Grumbled Ray glaring at the Mountie. "Follow the wolf, he's on ta him. Looks like we lost 'em Frase." Fraser nodded reluctantly.

"Jennings must have known of the trap and disappeared through another secret door." Ray reached into his boot for his extra gun, then dumped the excess water from both boots.

"Didn't happen to see my other gun did ya?" he hoped. Fraser shook his head. It was probably at the bottom of the pool and Ray wasn't in the mood to go swimming again. He followed Fraser across to the exit. They pulled it open and Ray moved forward up the winding stairs as Fraser shined his light from behind, until they crossed a carpeted sitting room and then stepped into another darkened foyer.

"Oh boy." Grieved Ray sarcastically. "Back where we started." They were indeed in the entryway of the house, only now they were coming from the opposite direction. They heard a crash as they moved forward. Fraser indicated it was coming from the closed door to their right. Ray nodded and they assumed their positions. After a moments hesitation the door swung wide. Simultaneously Fraser heard two different voices.

"Freeze, Chicago PD!"

"Drop your weapons!" Fraser's beam illuminated the faces of Special Investigator Handler and her male sidekick. For a long moment Ray and Agent Handler glared at each other, their weapons still trained on individual targets.

"You first." Tossed Ray daringly. Handler and Agent Young lowered their weapons as she shot him a disgusted look.

"What the hell are you doing here, Vecchio?" she demanded angrily, as Ray finally lowered his gun.

"Thinkin' about byin' a fixer upper." He retorted sarcastically. 'You?"

"We're on a case," she informed coldly. "So I suggested you and Duddly- Do- Right here leave." Ray shrugged and slipped his gun into his shoulder holster.

"Sorry." He refused, without a trace of regret. "We're on a case too. Why don't you leave?"

"We were here first." declared Young triumphantly.

"The hell you were." Denied Ray, his temper rising. "We've been here the whole time."

"Ray." Pressed Fraser soothingly. "Perhaps we can come to a compromise." He smiled at the agents. "It's quite possible we're after the same person so why don't we just work together to find him?"

"Good idea." Replied Young.

"Jennings is our suspect!" decreed Handler.

"Not if we get 'em first." Ray countered.

"Bad idea." Muttered Young, though no one seemed to be paying him any attention. His boss didn't like Vecchio, and he was sure the feeling was entirely mutual, this wasn't going to be easy. Fraser, ever the diplomat raised his hands to declare a truce.

"For whatever the suspect is wanted for, in either case," he began. "Wouldn't it be better to first apprehend him then sort out the details later?"

"Fine." Agreed Handler, never taking her eyes off the Kowalski. She'd like to wipe that smug look right off his face with the back of her hand. She stormed forward, pausing beside them to observe their dampened state. "What happened, Vecchio? Someone finally decide to give you a bath?" Ray made a threatening noise in the back of his throat and raised his fist as she walked past him, Fraser put a staying hand on his arm.

"Ain't this gonna be fun?" he muttered following the agents back into the hallway.

"You're out of your jurisdiction, Detective." She reminded smugly. "So any arrests made here will go to me." Ray glared at her.

"Hate to burst yer bubble, there Handler." He retorted cockily, "But we got permission ta be here by the owner, you don't. Yer trespassin'."

"In your dreams Vecchio." She spat. "I don't need permission, I've got a warrant." Ray shot her an evil look.

"Control freak." He muttered. She either didn't hear him or choose to ignore him.

"We should split up." She suggested

"Fine." He agreed readily, indicating agent Young. "You take Wonder Boy and check down here. Fraser an' me'll check up stairs." When he started to move forward she grabbed his arm and pulled him back, only to have him shake her off as though she was an annoying insect.

"I think we should stay together." She contended.

"It would be quicker if we split up to search Agent Handler." Commented Fraser truthfully. We'd have a better chance of one of us finding him." she glowered at him. Ray smirked and started up the stairs, only to have her pull him back again.

"I don't trust you, Vecchio." She stated. "Young can cover the Mountie I'm going with you to make sure you don't screw up." Kowalski glared at her.

"Fraser's my partner," he informed evenly. "Not you. And if you grab me one more time, lady or no, I'm gonna pop ya."

"It's okay, Ray." Assured Fraser quietly. "Let's just get started." Ray glared at Handler again then nodded to Young.

"If I gotta choose I'll take him." he insisted firmly. Handler scowled.

"What's your problem, Vecchio?" she demanded. "Afraid of having a woman as a partner?" Ray sneered.

"Nah," he denied. "I like women cops just fine." He leaned closer and put his face next to hers. "Just not you." They glared at each other, until finally Fraser spoke.

"May I suggest we put aside personal differences and continue the search?" Handler nodded.

"Fine." She addressed Young. "Go with Vecchio. Don't let him get you killed."

"I'll do my best." Promised Ray sarcastically as he and Young headed upstairs. He paused to glance at Fraser.

"Be careful." He instructed. Fraser nodded as the two teams separated to investigate their assigned area.

"I don't know how you put up with him." Handler muttered as she and Fraser inspected the adjoining sitting room across the hall.

"Ray is very good at what he does, Agent Handler." Assured the Mountie as they moved through the room into a large kitchen, their flashlights cutting across the layers of dust that permeated the air around them.

"He's an idiot." She declared as they made their way back into the hall and down toward what led into a library. "He should be locked up, he's entirely to reckless to be dealing with the public."

"Ray is a very...physical person." Explained Fraser as they moved along the wall. "He puts a lot of passion into his work, certainly you can't fault him for caring about what he does and the people he has sworn to protect." Fraser noted that Agent Handler choose to remain silent for the remainder of their search.

Ray led the way into the first room, both he and Young scanning the area quickly and methodically. Looked to be a small reading room of sorts, two walls of books and a few chairs. Young swept his light across the dust-covered room, but noticed nothing out of the ordinary. They moved to the next room. Just a small bedroom, again it looked undisturbed for years. They checked the other three rooms on the floor, but found nothing. In the last room, which looked to be an ol nursery or playroom, Ray was inspecting the adjoining sitting room with an old lantern that he found and had lit, as Young sighed and wiped his brow from the heat.

"There's nothing here." He stated running a handkerchief across his pale skin. He leaned against the wall nearest the large bassinet and suddenly fell backwards as the wall opened and closed silently.

"Yah, " agreed Ray turning to address the agent. "I guess yer...Young?" He made a quick sweep of the room, then wandered back into the hall and called out for the agent. Where the hell did he go? Ray hadn't even heard the man leave. A strange, cold sensation wormed its way up his spine and he shivered. This house gave him the creeps. He walked down the hall and checked the other rooms quickly but there was no sign of the missing agent. "I gotta bad feelin' about this." He muttered aloud as he made his way toward the third set of stairs that led to the floor above, Should he check upstairs on his own or go back downstairs and see if Young had decided to check in with Handler. Again a cold sensation gripped him and he could have sworn something just touched his shoulder. He spun around, the lantern in one hand, his gun in the other but he was alone. He glanced up the stairs again, into the darkness and shook his head. "Ghost's Goblins and ta hell witchoo." He proclaimed heading back downstairs.

"Where's Agent Young?" demanded Handler, the moment Ray found them in the darkened, formal dining area.

"Ah..." Kowalski hedged, scratching his head slightly. "I thought he came back down here. We were in a room upstairs talkin' and the next thing I knew he was gone, I thought he came to check in."

"You lost him!" accused Handler angrily.

"I didn't loose him!" refuted Kowalski. "I...er..just dunno where he went." He couldn't help the sheepish smile that spread across his face, which only seemed to enrage the pretty female Investigator.

"How could you loose a grown man?' she demanded. "Even an idiot like you can't loose a two hundred and twenty pound, middle aged, white guy in an enclosed environment!"

"Wow!" remarked Kowalski with a smirk. "Two twenty hey, funny he don't look that..."

"Detective!" exclaimed Handler, barely controlling her rage. Oh, he was getting to her, really getting to her now. She wanted to reach across and strangle him with her bare hands, watch the life squeeze out of him, rip that annoying smirk from his face, run her fingers through that charmingly disordered mass of blond hair. She paused in her silent tirade. Where the hell did that come from?

"Since we're takin' measurements," continued Kowalski in that annoyingly smug tone of his, "Maybe you should give me yers, so I know what to put on the missing person's report." She stared at him, blinked uncomprehending.

"I'm not the one missing you moron!"

"Can't blame a guy fer wishin'." He retorted. Finally Fraser stepped in, the tension between the pair was about to hit a crescendo and they didn't really have the time for dramatics.

"Perhaps we should attempt to find Agent Young." He offered in his best soothing, no-nonsense voice. He waited patiently for their response, though he felt that at any moment they would attack each other like lions in battle. "He may well have stumbled onto another secret passage, Ray." His partner finally tore his gaze away from Handler and shook his head.

"I don't see how." He replied. "I checked every inch of that room, Fraser and I checked the other one's besides. If he'd gone through some secret door, I'da found it."

"Not necessarily Ray." Assured Fraser as they moved toward the stairs. "Sometimes you have to have just the right pressure or hand hold to open the door." They climbed the stairs and returned to the room where he'd "lost" Young. "Where were you, Ray?" Kowalski showed him exactly where he had been and where the agent had stood. Fraser stood next to the bassinet.

"He said somethin' about there not bein' anything here," Ray informed then when I turned around to agree with him..poof he was gone." Fraser examined the walls in the room, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He pushed against them, knocked on them. He found two that sounded hollow, one of them being where Agent Young had been standing, but could not get the walls to open.

"This is just wonderful." Sighed Handler exasperated. "What else can go wrong?" Fraser ignored her as Ray walked over to him.

"Didn't you say somethin' about the right pressure?" he asked the Mountie. Fraser nodded, understanding what his friend was considering. They both turned their backs to the wall.

"Wait a minute!" delayed Handler, pulling a sheet off a small bureau and handing Fraser an end and anchoring the other around her waist. "If Young disappeared that quick, you guys might not have a chance to catch yourselves either."

"Excellent thinking Agent Handler. Commended Fraser, receiving a glare from his partner." On the count of three Ray." Ray nodded and braced himself, grabbing hold of the Mounties's strong arm. "One...two....three." They threw their full weight against the wall and, although it was half expected, they weren't quite ready when it gave under them and they slipped through. Fraser's hand had tightened on the sheet, to keep them upright, but Ray's hand and slipped from Fraser's arm and now clung to the back of his tunic and he was perched backward an a precarious angle. With Handler's counterweight and the sheet resistance Fraser managed to reach back, haul Ray up and then right himself as the wall started to close. Ray quickly shoved his back up against the wall to prevent it from closing further; his breathing was rather erratic, but then he'd almost went head first into what looked to be a bottomless well of darkness.

"Are you alright?" inquired Handler, watching him catch his breath. He stared at her surprised. That almost sounded like concern in her voice. Unfortunately, being Ray Kowalski, he couldn't let such a fraudulent slip go.

"Gee, Handler," he remarked sarcastically. "I didn't know ya cared." For a brief moment he thought there was a look of hurt in her eyes, but then it was so quickly replaced by her usual condescending glare that he believed he's imagined it.

"I just don't need you passing out on us, Vecchio." She insisted coldly. "We've got enough to deal with without having to haul your ass around, besides." Ray shot to his feet, almost forgetting the wall, until he'd felt it nudge his leg. He leaned against it.

"Don't you worry about me, Lady." He shot. and Fraser could tell from the lowered tone his friend was using that he was dangerously close to loosing his temper. He couldn't fault Ray for being startled by his narrow escape down the well, they'd both already taken one trip downward that had rattled him, but he saw no reason for Ray to counter Handler's unusually kind concern with sarcasm.

"I'm sure my partner meant no disrespect, Agent Handler." He suggested, knowing his partner would not apologize for his behavior, but he had to defuse the situation quickly and get on with the business at hand. He couldn't understand their shared animosity, having them in the same room was like mixing nitro glycerin and dynamite in a match factory, one of them was bound to blow up. Handler glared at the Mountie, having no more use for his passive white wash tactics as she did for his hooligan partner, then marched forward, She shined her light down into the pit and called out for Agent Young.

Kowalski subdued the sudden urge to push her in. Fraser must have understood his thoughts because the Mountie scowled at him and he had to look away from the reprimand in his partner's eyes. He just couldn't help himself, Handler seemed to bring out the absolute worst in him. He was not normally so consciously aggravating to someone, never intentionally hurtful, and he didn't understand what it was about this woman that turned him into someone he didn't like. Yes she was condescending and controlling and she seemed to always manage to push Kowalski's buttons, but that was still no reason to behave the way he had, even though at times he perversely enjoyed getting a rise out of her.

He watched as she and Fraser stared down and called out for Young, observing how the fine lines of her face creased with worry, the tiny pout of her lips as she anxiously wet them with her tongue. Her dark phantom eyes were soft and accented with log feathered lashes that most women would probably kill for, and played wide against her dark, mahogany skin, making her appear more vulnerable, even, he realized, when she was mad enough to spit nails.

"If he's down there he may be hurt and unable to answer." Considered Fraser as handler's voice continued to echo back at them. "We must find a way down."

"What're we gonna do?" asked Ray wryly. "Tie sheets together and lower someone down?" He had meant it as s joke, but when he found two pairs of eyes watching him thoughtfully he started shaking his head vehemently. "Oh no! Not me. I've had enough of this secret passage crap."

"It was your idea, Ray." Reminded Fraser.

"You were the one who lost Agent Young, to start with, Detective." Concluded Handler.

"I didn't loose him fer cryin' out loud!" he protested Handler shrugged and began to take off her heels.

"If you're afraid, Vecchio, " she charged. "I'll go." Ray glared at her.

"I never said I was afraid." He denied hotly. "I just..you weren't..I didn't..." he scowled at both of them. He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "Aw, Hell. Go get the damn sheets Fraser." Fraser hid his grin and started to leave the room, the shot a cautious glance at his partner regarding Agent Handler, causing Ray to smile. "I'll be good, Fraser." He promised, receiving a strange, inquiring look from the woman next to him. The Mountie nodded and went to find some more sheets, at the same time Handler took a few wary steps back away from the detective. He didn't elaborate on what she might be thinking, instead he just gave her his best Cheshire Cat grin.

Ray swung Fraser's flashlight around him, while his other hand gripped the sheet tightly, that was also secured around his waist, as he was lowered into the dark pit. They had moved the bureau in front of the wall to keep it from closing and now he dangled from the sheets that he and Fraser had quickly tied together.

"Are you alright Ray?" inquired the ever-concerned Mountie from above. The echo of his partner's words made his head ache.

"Yah." He called back.

"Do you see anything yet, Detective?" asked Handler. Ray felt as though they'd been lowering him forever, but he still saw no trace of a bottom. If Young had fallen this far down, he could be seriously hurt or even dead.

"Nothin' yet." He called back, knowing she was awaiting his response. As soon as the words left his mouth, his light caught a movement below. He leaned over a little and adjusted the beam, then shined it downward again. His foot hit it before the beam could completely illuminate the skeletal remains of a corpse below him, with a variety of arachnids crawling in and out of the eyes and mouth sockets of the deteriorating skull. Ray felt the scream rise in his throat but was unaware that he had vocalized it until he heard Fraser calling down frantically.

"Ray! Ray what is it?"

"Pull me up!" Ray screamed as a large, black tarantula jumped onto his boot. He tried to shake it off, just as another one appeared from the surrounding wall and attached itself to the sleeve of his jacket. "Jesus! Shit!" He shook his leg and managed to detach the one on his foot, then knocked the one off his sleeve with the torch in his other hand. Two more attached themselves, one to the front of his shirt one on his thigh, they were like magnets being drawn to him and even as he felt himself being pulled slowly upwards, he panicked as he felt another one crawling on his shoulder." Fraser! Pull me up!" His fear caused his hand to slip on the sheet, yet it was a heavier fear that demanded he wrap his shaking hand tighter around it; he did not want to end up down there with that corpse. He felt the three tarantulas crawling upward, one at his waist, two close to his throat. He shook himself so hard he almost lost his grip again. He cried out as his struggles caused him to slam into the rock wall that surrounded him.

"Ray!" called Fraser urgently from above. "Try to be still, it's harder to pull you up when you're moving."

"Pull me up! Demanded Ray, hysteria registering in his voice as he managed to fling another spider away, but there were still two on him and he seemed to be rising awfully slowly. "Shit! Shit! Get offa me!" managed to knock another one off, but the one at his hip started to crawl inside his shirt and he felt its eight hairy legs crawl up his chest. "FRASER!"

Suddenly he was being pulled up and into the nursery by a pair of strong arms, and laid on his back.

"Get it off! Get it off!" he screamed as Fraser tried to work his way past his partner's hysterical movements to grasp the creature he saw moving under Kowalski's shirt. Finally he managed to catch it, then swiftly pulled the spider out and threw it back into the pit. Ray was shaking and started to hyperventilate. Fraser tore at one of the sheets and made a type of cloth bag, which he held over Kowalski's mouth and nose, instructing him to try and take deep breaths as Handler pulled off the detective's leather jacket and pulled up his shirt to check for bite marks. She saw the makings of a dark bruise forming on his upper back, and one just above his hip, but no sign that the Arachnid had bit him. His breathing had started to slow and become more normal as she touched the tender flesh at his back. He flinched.

"What happened?" she asked gently. He pushed Fraser's hands and the cloth away from his face and pulled down his shirt, suddenly, embarrassed for having reacted the way he had.

"I think I hit the wall a few times." He muttered, trying to ignore the crawling sensation that still seemed to cover his skin. Fraser took the shirt out of the detective's hands and checked the area.

"Doesn't look like anything is broken,." He approved quietly, helping ray on with his jacket, his partner's hands were still shaking badly. "What did you see, Ray?" Taking a deep breath, and accepting the hand Fraser held out to him, he rose to his feet. He briefly told them what he had found at the end of the well and watched Handler cover her mouth in shock.

"Was it..." she began, her eyes wide with shock. "Was it Agent Young?" Ray thought back to the scene then shook his head.

"Nah, I don't think so." he declined. "The body was pretty badly decomposed."

"Then there must be a passage that leads of this one, similar to the one we were in, Ray." Remarked Fraser thoughtfully.

"How?" asked Ray, "It goes straight up and down. I didn't see no levers or doors or nuthin'."

"There may be some kind of fulcrum or mechanism on the wall though, Ray." Countered Fraser. "Agent Young may have hit it somehow on the way down." Ray stared at him warily.

"I ain't goin' back down there, Fraser." He stated firmly. "No way no how, end of story." His hands made a wildly sweeping gesture.

"No, of course not, Ray." Agreed Fraser, understanding that the detective had a right to be concerned. "I'll go." Ray grunted in exasperation and ran a hand through his hair.

"Fraser!" he objected. "This is stupid." He didn't want to risk the Mounties's life because although he was strong, Fraser was bigger and heavier than he and Ray wasn't sure he could pull his partner to safety quick enough in a pinch. "If he ain't down there he's gotta be somewhere in this house."

"But Ray..."

"No, Fraser." Ray decided firmly. He handed Fraser back his torch and retrieved the lamp. "Now com'on and let's go find him." Surprisingly Handler stood and started to follow.

"For once I agree with Vecchio, Constable." She informed. "It's too dangerous. We'll have to find an alternative route." Fraser sighed and nodded, then switched off his light and followed her out, with Ray's lamp they didn't need to waste the batteries in the torch.

They decided to check the poolroom first, where Fraser and Kowalski had ended up on their first trip through a secret passageway. They checked the entire downstairs area methodically, searching for secret entrances or hidden doorways. Since the pit had dropped straight down, Young had to be in the lower half of the house. Now they were looking for two people, the suspect Robert Jennings and Agent Young. Handler was considering calling in back up too aid in the search, since it was turning dark outside and it would be even harder to see inside the house.

She glanced out the window as Ray inspected the bookcases in the library.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as she glanced over at him. "We already checked there.

"Toss me yer light." He requested.

"Why?"

"Just hand it over, will ya?" he sighed. She threw the torch at him and watched him shine the light against the bookcase. She walked over to see what he found. Scratches against the wall that looked like the bookcase had been moved quite a bit. He handed her back the torch. "Give me a hand." She placed her hands next to his and together they managed to push the bookcase over enough to see a secret passageway.

"Where do you think it goes?" she asked, leaning over him and shinning her light into the darkness. He slipped inside and indicated the scuffed boot prints on the floor beneath them..

"Dunno." He admitted as she slipped in beside him. "But I'll but our buddy Jennings has been through here." They both straightened as the bookcase was suddenly thrown back into place, blocking their exit. Ray pounded on the wall and called out to Fraser but there was no response from the other side.

"Maybe he can't hear you." She suggested. Ray snorted, with Fraser's keen hearing?

"He can hear." He confirmed pounding on the wall harder. Finally Fraser's muffled voice answered from behind the solid mass.

"Ray! Agent Handler! Are you all right?"

"Yah, Frase." Ray called back. "There ain't no way to move it from this side, can you move it from your side?" There was a moment of silence, then the Mountie responded.

"It won't budge Ray." He replied apologetically. "There must be something in the mechanisms that locks it from moving again too soon."

"So what?" asked Ray confused. "You want us to just wait until it lets us out, or what?"

"No Ray." Refused Fraser. "It may be hours and we still have to find Agent Young and Jennings. What do you see on your side?" Ray shined Handler's torch forward and found a flight of stairs. He told Fraser.

"They probably lead to the second floor." Suggested Ray. "You wanna meet us up there and find a way out?"

"Just keep calling when you reach the top Ray, I'll find you." Promised the Mountie. Ray nodded, turned to head up the stairs, then turned back.

"Hey Fraser!"

"Yes Ray?"

"Be careful huh? Jennings may still be around and you don't have me an' my trusty sidearm to back you up." There was a momentary pause.

"Understood Ray." Fraser assured finally. He knew what his partner was saying, don't take any unnecessary risks. "I'll see you upstairs."

" 'Kay." Returned Ray, then indicated that Handler preceded him up the narrow stone steps.

Ray silently hoped this passage didn't end up like their last, he'd just started to dry out in the humid heat surrounding them. They climbed silently for a long time, then came to a wall with two brass torches over the center. Ray pushed against the wall but it didn't budge. He felt along it to find a trigger mechanism, as Handler reached up and pulled on one of the torches. The wall slid open and she cast him a smug smile. Ray gritted his teeth and followed her through, the wall closing behind them. They were in a small room, no windows and no visible exit out. Handler's beam caught the metal of an old fasioned kerosene lamp and Ray checked his pocket for something to light it with. Retrieving the matches he'd used to light the other lamp, the one he'd left down stairs, quickly touched the flame to the wick and replaced the glass. It cast a soft glow around them, and Kowalski switched off the torch in his hand and gave it back to Handler, as they inspected the room for a way out. All that was there was the table, lamp and an old rocking chair.

"Great going, Vecchio." She mused thinking the room wasn't much bigger than a walk in closet, as she ran her hand along the wall they had just come out of. "Now what do we do?" Ray glared back at her, then continued to run his hands over the walls, knocking occasionally to test if they were solid.

"There has to be a way out." he stated. "Why would they build a secret passage to a room there was no way out of?"

"I don't know, " sighed Handler exasperatedly. "But you managed to find one." She sighed and pulled out her cell phone to make the call for backup. She gave them the directions then ended the call. No offense to the Mountie, but she couldn't trust him alone to find them and Vecchio couldn't find a rat in a trap. She voiced her comment, under her breath and didn't think he'd heard her, but she was wrong.

"I didn't ask you to follow me." He reminded angrily, he was fed up with her and her sarcasm.

"I didn't want to take the chance of you finding my suspect before I did." She rallied defiantly. "Knowing your brawl-room tactics he'd be beaten to a pulp before I even got to question him." Ray turned on her.

"Listen lady, you got no idea what my tactics are so just shut yer trap!" He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his rising temper. "People like you make me sick! Ya let some poor grunts like me and Fraser do all the work for ya 'den you breeze in an' take over like ya own the world or somethin'! Well, lemmie tell ya somethin', without people like me you'd be nut'tin but a paper-pushin' meter maid, remember 'dat!"

"Don't you dare insinuate that I can't handle my job!" she returned furiously. "You're nothing but a cocky, two bit scrounge playing at being a cop. You think you're so great, well I've seen your file Vecchio and it's nothing to be proud of!" He shot her a warning look, but she'd already gone to far, so why not push him all the way over the edge. "As I understand it, the majority of your collars are due to that Mountie partner of yours and not by some insurmountable skill you think you have. You're reckless, arrogant and insubordinate and you have no business on the street or near the public."

"I do what I'm supposed ta do!" he roared defensively against her insubordination charge. "I do what I gotta do to save lives an' the get scum off the streets. I don't ask nobody ta do my job for me and Fraser is the best damn partner anybody could have, but we are partners and I work just as hard as him." They both jumped at a loud screeching sounded around them.

"W..what was that?" gulped Handler. Ray didn't answer her, because the noise sounded again and it sent shivers clear through him.

"Probably and owl." He offered. The noise sounded one more time, only twice as loud, "Okay, an owl on steroids." He muttered to himself as a heavy thumping vibrated the roof over the heads. She stared at him expectantly.

"Probably our suspect or Fraser." He explained quietly.

A gentle creaking seemed to be coming from inside the room and they both turned to stare at the rocking chair, that now seemed to move of it's own volition.

"V..V..Vecchio!" exclaimed Handler as she watched the chair creak back and forth.

"I ain't doin' it!" he denied as the flame in the lamp seemed to glow brighter. He felt a hand slip into his and looked down at the terrified agent beside him. "It's a trick. It's just a..." A face appeared before them, the pale hue of death feeding around dark hollow eyes and a wide screaming mouth. He felt the tug on his arm as Handler fainted, then a wave of nausea passed over him. A moment later, he joined her on the floor.

Fraser opened the third door in the hallway, A window was open, surprising because most of them were boarded up, and a gentle breeze was moving the thin white curtains that hung from it. Two portable lamps, a small camp stove and a duffel bag lay close to a rolled sleeping bag. he moved inside, after assuring there was no one about and Fraser inspected the room calling for Ray. This was the third room he had been in and still he had heard nothing from his partner. Curious, he stopped beside the duffel bag and examined its contents.

"Looks like someone's going on an extended vacation." Fraser glanced around and was surprised to see Agent Young standing there just inside the doorway, his clothes were slightly torn and foliage from the forest clung to his clothes and hair and his face looked like it had been scratched by thorns.

"Where did you come from?" asked Fraser puzzled. Young wiped at his face with a handkerchief.

"Outside." He explained. "I was leanin' up against a wall talkin' to yer partner one minute, the next I was on this crazy slide that dumped me in the middle of the damn trees out back." He stepped further into the room. "Where's Agent Handler and Vecchio?" Fraser quickly explained the situation. "We ain't found Jennings yet, either?" Fraser shook his head and pulled out one of the packets of hundred dollar bills.

"No." he replied. "But he's obviously been here. Looks like this is where he sleeps." The money from the bank robbery." He surmised, bringing the bills closer to inspect one of the packets. His keen senses picked up a suspicious odor on the money. "Hmmm." Young glanced at him as he tentatively licked one of the bills.

"That's gross." He debated. "Even for a Canadian." Fraser took no offense at the remark as he dropped the money back into the bag.

"There are traces of cocaine on the bills." He informed the agent as he moved to the small stove.

"That would mean this is probably the money from the drug heist." assumed Agent Young as Fraser turned to regard him.

"Drug Heist?" he inquired, for Chicago PD only knew of the bank robbery charge. Young nodded.

"Yeah, " he confirmed dropping the bag and moving to check outside from the window. "There was a big drug deal going down, some heavy hitters from Seattle were making a trade to some folks here in Chicago. We got a tip where they would be meeting and were waiting for them." He sighed with frustration. "Unfortunately our timing was a little off. We managed to get the a couple of the buyers, but not the main guy. Apparently someone came in posing as the sellers and traded off some home brewed heroin, that was laced with coke and a few other things. The buyers of course were not please that they weren't getting the real thing..know what I mean?" Fraser nodded. It was ironic how particular drug dealers could be regarding their product, but if it wasn't pure it didn't sell and they didn't make money. He could imagine they were all very upset.

"So the person posing as the seller would have to hide out for a while until he believed they were no longer looking for him." deduced Fraser glancing around them. "He probably used the money he stole from the bank to produce enough Heroin for a larger payoff that he had heard was going to occur, only he couldn't attain enough of the product that he required so he laced it with whatever he could salvage."

"Which led to both of us being after the same guy." Concluded Young, not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

"Then he must still be here." Stated Fraser as they left the room. "I know Diefenbaker must be on his trail," He neglected to mention that the wolf hadn't been seen for awhile now. "But there seems to be quite a few hidden passageways in this house that he could have ample hiding room."

"Let's check the rest of these rooms." Suggested Young. "See if we can't find Agent Handler and Vecchio. Fraser nodded and allowed him to lead the way.

Ray woke up with a pounding headache and blurry vision. He blinked a few times and tried to focus. They were in a dark room, but there was enough moonlight coming through the rotting boards of the window close to them that he could make out shadows. A moment later, his eyes seemed to adjust and he could see that they were in another bedroom, the furniture draped with heavy yellowed sheets. He watched dust molecules caught in the moonbeams that found their way inside the small room. He tried to move his arms and realized they were tied to the chair he was sitting on. A movement against the ropes and a stiff groan sounded behind them. He tried to twist his head to see the person behind him.

"That you Handler?" he asked, unable to see her from his position.

"Who else?" she snapped wearily. "God my head hurts!" She raised her head to look around them. "What happened?"

"You fainted." Replied Ray, receiving an indignant grunt from her.

"I never faint." She denied angrily. "You probably hit me, or something." Ray smirked.

"Not that it didn't cross my mind," he admitted. "But no, I didn't. Ya fainted. Dropped like a stone." He grinned, no way was he going to admit he'd smelt some kind of gas that had started to turn his stomach, just before he himself had lost consciousness. Although, the things they witnessed, who knows what the hell they were.

"I don't faint, Vecchio!" she declared and he felt the ropes squeeze against his chest.

"Hey!" he protested trying to get his breath back. "Quit squirmin' yer cuttin' off my circulation." He felt the ropes pull against him once more defiantly.

"There's an idea." She muttered finally becoming still in her chair. "I don't faint Vecchio, so what the hell happened?" Ray sighed.

"It was all a theory"

"What?" she demanded. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ya know, the theory of gravity?" he explained sarcastically. "Well it reached up and grabbed ya all of a sudden like." She growled and he chuckled, only to have her pull on the ropes again.

"Quit it!" he demanded firmly. " Lemmie think for a moment here. See how we can get outta this mess." he smirked. "Or me anyway, you I'll leave behind."

"I'm warning you Vecchio." She threatened. "I am not in the mood for..." Ray suddenly shushed her. "Don't you shush me I..." Then she heard it, footsteps approaching them. The door opened and Ray squinted as the beam of a flashlight hit him in the face. Temporarily blinded, he couldn't make out the man's features, but could tell that he was medium height and build.

"Shouldn't be pokin' around where ya don't belong, Cop." He threatened, holding the beam to Ray' face to keep himself shadowed.

"Make this easy on yerself." Insisted Ray rationally. "Yer gonna do time anyway, so just let us go and we'll put in a good word fer ya at the trial." He felt the cold barrel of a gun propped against his forehead.

"How about I just shoot ya and then there won't be no witness to testify." He bargained.

"Ya don't wanna shoot a cop, man." He warned, trying to appeal to the man's basic fears. "They'll hunt you down fer it. They'll never give up until the catch ya and even then there's no guarantee 'dat you'll make it back alive."

"Cop killers seem to have an awfully hard time getting to trial." Confirmed Handler, playing along with Vecchio's physc trip. "There are so many miss haps that occur along the way. So many unfortunate accidents."

"An' even if you survive to serve time," continued Ray, sensing the man's hesitancy. "Ya know what they do with Cop killers in the Big House, man? You gotta prove what a stud ya are and every guy in the place will be trying to prove they're better'n you. You won't be able to sleep, or eat, or go anywhere alone without someone wantin' to take a piece outta you." He listened to the man's breathing, he was sure their lies were scaring him. "You really wanna chance that, man?" After a moment, the gun was removed from his temple and the light lowered from his eyes. Ray released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"Then I'll have to figure out a way to make it look like somethin' other than a murder." Explained the man, sending chills down Ray's spine. He didn't like the sound of that. A minute later he felt Handler cry out and he tried to twist around to see what was happening.

"He's got a syringe Vecchio!" she announced panicked. Vecchio tried to get his hands free, but it was no use, and he knew the more he struggled, the tighter the ropes squeezed around Handler. A moment later he felt the man beside him and the light was shining on his arm, at the underside of his elbow.

"Don't you put that shit in me!" he screamed trying to shake the man's fingers away from him. He felt the cold prick of the needle and the cold running through his veins as the man move toward Handler. Suddenly there was a menacing growl from the doorway and Ray looked up just as Diefenbaker lunged at Jennings, knocking the syringe from his hand. The man cried out, but managed to get away from the wolf long enough to escape through the door. Diefenbaker whined at Ray's side.

"Good boy." He encouraged. "Go get Fraser, Dief. Go." The wolf took off out the door as Ray tried to force the numbness that was overtaking him down.

Oh GOD! Already he was starting to feel the dizzying sensation associated with the drug. His mind flew backwards, to a time when he was still working narcotics, before he became the man known as Ray Vecchio. He'd be deep undercover in a gang of drug smugglers. He'd been the right hand man to one of the major sellers, a punk kid named Julio, and he'd had someone make him as a cop. He was too close on the case to blow his cover, too close to nailing them for drug trafficking and the murder of a fifteen year old girl. To prove his loyalty, Ray took a hit, he was only twenty-three and it was a rookie mistake, he didn't know the cocaine was laced, or that they had already made him. He woke up in the hospital, but not before he spent the most hellish two hours of his existence.

They had still made the collar and the punk and his friends wound up in jail, but they had put so much of the drug into Ray's system it took him almost a week to go through the effects of the overdose. It had been the worst week of his life, he'd felt no better than a junkie and went on a barrage of self-doubt and guilt over his one mistake.

"V..Vecchio." whispered Handler from behind him. "Vecchio..we've got to..get out of here." She sounded scared but alert, and he suspected Jennings hadn't had a chance to inject her.

"Did he..." he began.

"Some." She admitted, not noticing the trickle of blood that oozed from her arm where the syringe had been ripped away from the wolf's attack on Jennings.

"Good." He sighed. "That's good. Maybe not enough..." Ray tried to concentrate on the situation. They both needed to get to a hospital, and to do that he had to get them free. He glanced around the room again, trying to shake off the effects of the drug.

"Vecchio?" she asked, as though uncertain he was still conscious.

"Yah." He replied in a voice that didn't sound at all like his own. "I'm workin' on it." God! Where was Fraser? He shook his head. Have to concentrate, have to get free. He spied what appeared to be a large, old fashioned looking glass, half covered by one of the sheets in the corner of the room. C..Can you move yer legs enough to walk?" Handler tested them, they weren't secured to the chair, but she didn't know if she could stand up on them.

"I don't know." She admitted, "I'm pretty shaky." Ray grimaced.

"Yah," he agreed. 'Me too." Shaky hell, he felt like his whole body was a human vibrator and he was breaking out in a cold sweat. "H..How much do you weigh?"

"What?" she asked confused. "This ...this isn't the time for your jokes Vecchio." Ray sighed exasperated.

"I ain't in no shape to make them." He insisted. "Just answer the damn question." There was a momentary pause and then she answers.

"About 125." she admitted grudgingly. "Why?" Ray took a breath, it was getting hard to speak, he just wanted to curl up and close his eyes, let the tremendous sensations, good and bad take him away from reality. He shook his head.

"Okay." He mused finally. 'I'm gonna try to lift ya on my back, so try not to move and put as much of yer weight against me, okay?"

"You'll kill yourself, trying." She protested, knowing he could hardly be in any condition for such a feat.

"Got no choice." He muttered. "On the count of three, throw your weight backwards as I stand. Okay?"

"Okay." She agreed. He counted off and on the last number he rose to his feet, balancing the other chair and it's occupant across his back. He stumbled slightly until he maintained a better balance, as Handler tried to stay as still as possible. He managed a few steps toward the mirror, his breathing already ragged and his head swimming, then a few more. After what seemed like forever, they were just a few feet from their goal, when an excruciating pain seemed to center around Ray's nervous system and his pitched forward. He tried to turn enough that they would land on their side and he heard Handler's alarming cry just before they hit the floor. Ray took a couple of deep breaths and shut his eyes against the pain.

"Handler!" he croaked. "Are you okay?" Handler groaned from the biting pain in her shoulder where it hit the floor.

"I don't know." She gasped. "I think my arm is broken." Ray swore and she felt a pang of sympathy for him, hoping he didn't blame himself for her injury. "But we're here. Now what?" Ray caught his breath, the pain subsiding as another overwhelming sensation racked his body. He opened his eyes and glared at the mirror.

"Watch your eyes." He instructed gruffly and Handler turned her head as far as she could away from the mirror, as he kicked out at the stand and the mirror crashed to the floor. He tried to bring a reflective shard closer with his foot and maneuvered to grasp it with his hand. He felt his wrist pop as he awkwardly attempted to cut at the ropes with the sharp edges of the glass. He could feel it nicking his skin as he worked, but his hands were shaking so badly there wasn't anything he could do. Finally he worked through enough of the rope that when he pulled it snapped and he quickly pulled the ropes off of them. He managed to get to his knees and help Handler into a sitting position.

"Thanks Vecchio." She whispered as they both stumbled to their feet, careful of her shoulder. She wasn't upright for more than a minute when a heavy wave of nausea hit her and she started to vomit. Ray tried to hold on to her as she emptied her stomach. Finally she was able to stand up again and Ray let her lean on him, though he barely had the strength to keep his own feet under him.

"Have to get out." he stated grimly, grabbing onto the sheet covered bureau closest to them, as the pain and dizziness threatened to overtake him. "Gotta find Fraser." They stumbled toward the door, below ranged a narrow set of steps and darkness. With no light and his senses incomparable it would be difficult. He wistfully checked his shoulder holster for his gun. Nope, Jennings probably had it. Handler's weapon and phone were also gone.

"Now what?" she asked, staring up at his pale face, which seemed almost transparent in the moonlight that escaped through the window.

"We goin' down, down, down." He chuckled, the feeling of utopia entering his system and making him feel incredibly light on his feet. He grabbed her hand. "Com'on Ginger. Fred'll lead you ta dance the night away." Handler watched him concerned, she knew the drug was making him high, but was more worried about the effect it would have on him later. She'd seen the small amount Jennings had tried to stick her with, which led her to believe that Ray had taking the majority of the drug, which meant an overdose. She'd seen people die of an overdose, it was not pretty, she would not allow this brash, unconventional, exasperatingly wonderful detective to die such a terrible death. Her sudden feelings for him alarmed her, but not as much as her determination to protect him.

"Vecchio we have to..." she began as he started to waltz her around the room, with remarkably skilled grace, and she grimaced as pain shot up her arm. He stopped suddenly and stared down at her.

"Who 'dat?' he demanded. "He yer boyfriend or somethin'?" She stared at him, her jaw dropping.

"What?" she exclaimed shocked as he pulled her closer into his arms and hummed against her hair as they danced.

" "You smell nice." He remarked off handedly. She managed to pull away, holding her arm. He shot her a wounded look. "What did I do?"

"Vecchio, we have to go." she insisted watching a wide range of emotions passed over the detective's suddenly flushed face.

"Go where?" he asked confused.

"We have to find agent Young and Constable Fraser...." She started to explain, watching a slow grin pass over Ray's features.

"Fraser." He sighed. "My buddy Fraser. Ya know he and me we're partners and partners are buddies 'cause ya don't need no one else but yer partner..."

"You're babbling Detective." She sighed in exasperation, her patience wearing thin, despite the circumstance. He shook off the hand she placed on his arm.

"Ya think I don't know!" he screamed at her suddenly, startling her into taking a step back. "Ya think I don't notice how he misses Vecchio? How he wants's him and not me? But I'm him now and he's me, but he ain't me and I ain't really him. I'm me! Just me and why don't he see that?" She was appalled at the pain that contorted the Detective's face as he turned away from her. "I got no life but I gotta live his, but it ain't my life an' I want it ta be. I want Fraser to be my partner, my friend. I want Frannie to be my sister an' I want ta be known for who I am not who I hafta be." Handler listened to him, bewildered. He wasn't making any sense, was that because of the drug or was he trying to tell her something she couldn't comprehend. She had to get his mind back on track, she needed his help, whether she wanted it or not. She tried to make her tone soothing and stepped forward to place a hand on his shaking shoulder.

"You're all those things." She offered, trying to remember her physc lessons from college. "Everyone appreciates you for who you are." He turned to her and there were tears swimming in his eyes.

"You don't." he denied. "You hate me because I'm mean to you." He looked so forlorn that Handler had to force herself not the throw her arms around him and comfort him, remember it's the drug talking. He doesn't know what he's saying. "I don't want to be mean to you. I don't know why I am, why you don't like me..." he dropped to his knees in front of her and wrapped his arms around her waist like a child. "Please like me, I can't stand that you don't. even if I..." he paused and she stared down at him, unable to stop the gentle hand that now combed through his hair comfortingly. He pulled away from her caress and stared up at her disconcerted.

"Vecchio?' she asked, seeing a spark of reality in his eyes. He fell backwards away from her, running a hand through his hair.

"What...what?" he looked to her for the answer and she saw the fear in his eyes. She helped him to his feet with her good arm.

"Com'on we have to go." She encouraged, she needed to get them out of there before the next phase of the drug hit, but it was already happening. She felt him stiffen as they approached the darkened stairwell.

"No." he refused. "Don't make me go in there, it's dark!" She turned and registered the terror in his eyes, his voice seemed almost child like. She took his hand.

"It's okay." She promised. "I won't let you get hurt.." He shook of her hand and started to back up against the wall.

"No! They'll get me!" He shook his head vehemently. "I've seen them. I've seen them!" he cowered into a corner as she approached. She was one of them, he thought. She had to be. One of the people who had made him come here, made him enter this dank, old house. His Mother had told him to stay away but they'd dared him and now he couldn't get away. The voices were all around him in the darkness, their faces hideous and deformed. He'd heard them lock the door to the room. Heard them laugh as they walked away, leaving him alone, all alone with the dead; to die.

Handler watched as the tears streamed down his face and he called out for his Mother, with a voice so young and pitiful it truly frightened her. She stood and made a decision. He was too far-gone in the paranoia and whatever terrible memories he was dredging up from his past to be of use to her. She had to go find the Mountie and get help. She prayed the backup she called, before they were captured, would arrive soon.

Ray watched the woman head into the darkened stairwell, as a severe pain rocked his body. He doubled over and cried out. OH GOD! It hurts! It hurts so much! Where was he? Where was Fraser? Hadn't there been someone else in the room with him? Another agonizing thrust of pain shoved all questions from him as he tried to concentrate on just being allowed to breathe. Suddenly, there was a young girl beside him, perhaps only nine or ten years old, her long raven hair was pulled back in a series of intricate braids and er pale face shimmered in the moonlight. She smiled with the prettiest pink lips Ray had ever seen and placed a hand on his arm. Immediately the pain and delusions were gone and she beckoned him to stand beside her.

"Who are you?' he asked softly, afraid he'd frighten her, but she just smiled and reached a tiny hand up to place in his large palm. She pulled him over to the window and for the first time, Ray noticed the boards were gone and the brisk night air filled his nostrils. "Where are your parents?" he continued, kneeling down beside her, the cop in him wanting to protect her and find where she belonged. He watched her climb out onto the gabled roof and he tried to stop her, afraid she would fall, but she simply reached inside and grasped his hand again, encouraging him to join her. Not wanting to take the chance of her falling, he kept hold of her hand and tried to gently pull her inside, but she shook her head and beckoned him with her other hand, her beautiful smile never wavering. He watched the white material of her long dress catch in the night breeze and flap playfully at her ankles. There were intricate patterns of roses and leaves in pink and pale green thread across the bodice and hem of her dress, that looked to Ray as though hours had been spent sewing the painstakingly delicate designs. Again she beckoned him, more urgently this time and Ray believed she must need to show him something, perhaps someone was in trouble. He carefully climbed out beside her and with her hand in his they cautiously picked their way across the roof to another open windows a few feet across and down.

Fraser and Young had heard a crash from above them, but could find no way to get to the unseen third level of the house. A large iron door that offered no way through, blocked the stairs that led to the third floor.

Suddenly, a thought crossed Fraser's mind. Why would the man pick a room on the second floor, with an open window that could be seen from the drive? Wouldn't someone who didn't want to be seen use a back room, or one that was more difficult to see. He started back to the room where they had found the duffel bag, Young following closely, though puzzled.

"Where are we going?" he asked the Mountie.

"Jennings must have chosen that particular room because it gave him better access to the house." he was explaining. "It would be ideal for a quick escape to have a secret passage that led to other areas in the house. Young caught on and they hurried to the room where they had found the duffel bag, only to collide with a figure running toward them. The man fired at them, as they dived out of the way, and headed back the way he had come.

They reached the room in a matter of minutes and saw Jennings preparing his escape through an adjacent wall, with his duffel bag over his shoulder, just as Agent Handler stumbled through the opening. He grabbed her up, before she had a chance to move, and put the gun to her head as Fraser and Young moved closer.

"I'll kill her!" he screamed at them, backing up toward the window. Fraser saw a movement outside the window, away from the man's sight. "Move outta my way or she's dead!"

"You don't want to do that." Protested Fraser calmly as Young held his gun aimed at the suspect that held his partner. "Just let her go." The man shook his head stubbornly.

"No way!" he refused, pulling on Handler's bad arm and causing her to scream out in pain. "Where's the other one?" he demanded of her.

"I don't know!" she sobbed, trying to get him to release her arm. Diefenbaker finally made an appearance and charged the man.

"Get him away or I'll kill her!" he panicked pressing the gun hard against Handler's temple. Diefenbaker growled menacingly as he continued to approach.

"I'm sorry but he never listens to me." Offered Fraser, as the man backed up until his back was pressed against the window. Fraser finally realized it was Ray out on the room, behind Jennings, just as the sounds of sirens echoed from below. The man took a hasty look and that was when Fraser moved forward to catch Handler as Ray reached through the window to grab her captor. Unfortunately, Diefenbaker decided at that moment too charge and in fear the man reared back too quickly and the momentum pulled him out the window and down over the roof, with Ray tumbling behind. Fraser ran to the window as the squad cars surrounded the area, as Diefenbaker whined next to him.

"RAY!" He saw his partner and the suspect roll off the roof toward the ground, as Young checked on Handler.

"Now the backup arrives." She muttered as the agent helped her to her feet and the Mountie ran past her. "Let's get out of here."

Fraser ran out into the evening air, as the police were handcuffing the suspect who had miraculously survived the fall by landing in the bushes below. Ray, however had hit the ground and he hurried to where his partner lay, at a distressing angle on his back, one of his legs twisted upwards.

"Ray!" he exclaimed kneeling beside his friend, blood was coming out of his mouth and he could hear one of the police officer calling for an ambulance.

"Fraser?" whispered Ray shakily. "I've ...." He coughed up some blood. "I've fallen and I can't get up." He grinned weakly as Handler and Young joined them.

"Jennings shot us up with something." Informed Handler as she placed her good hand against Ray's cheek. "I think Ray's dose was more lethal." Fraser's eyes grew huge at the thought of Ray dying from anything, especially an overdose. He watched Ray turn his face into the agent's hand.

"I told ya I'd protect ya babe." He whispered as she stoked his hair and she received a curious look from Young and Fraser.

"He's hallucinating." She explained. "He thinks I'm someone else."

"Where is she?" the detective suddenly asked. "Where's the girl?"

"What girl, Ray?" demanded Fraser as his partner's eyes wandered upward toward the open window he'd crawled out of. Ray smiled up at the white form waving at him from her perch. She was safe. That's all that matters.

Suddenly Ray started to shake violently.

"He's going into convulsions! Quick get a blanket and something to put into his mouth to keep him from biting his tongue!" observed Handler as Fraser removed his wallet and inserted it into Ray's mouth. An officer hurried over with a blanket, as Handler took hold of Ray's wrists to prevent him flailing and hurting himself. Suddenly the convulsions stopped and Ray's eyes closed.

"No." denied Fraser, pulling the wallet away and wiping the blood at Ray's Mouth. NO! He quickly began to administer CPR, and breathed into Ray's mouth as Young pressed on his chest. "Com'on Ray." Demanded Fraser, after another breath.

"Don't you dare die, Vecchio!" ordered Handler, unaware she'd griped his hand fiercely, while trying to keep her tears from escaping, as the two men frantically worked on him. "Com'on damnit! You've got paperwork to file! No one dies on my watch!"

"Please Ray." Whispered Fraser and Handler realized the Mountie was also close to tears as he pushed more air into the detective's lungs. Handler felt a slight movement under her fingers and she pressed them harder against his wrist.

"A pulse!" she exclaimed as the ambulance arrived. "You did it Fraser. He's alive." Fraser sat back as the paramedics rushed over and placed an oxygen mask over Ray's face and prepared him for the stretcher. Handler was also escorted to the ambulance as Fraser and Diefenbaker climbed into the GTO and followed.

At the hospital, both Handler and Kowalski were rushed to emergency to have their stomach's pumped and repair their injuries. Both had their veins flushed to get as much of the drug out of their system as possible. Handler was placed in recovery two hours later, with a cast on her arm and an IV attached to her good hand. Ray was still in Intensive Care, his injuries had been much worse due to the fall.

Fraser was sitting in the waiting room with Diefenbaker, as Young entered. He briefed Fraser on Handler's condition then inquired about Ray's.

"How is he?"

"They had to resuscitate him twice so far." He explained as he stood and began fidgeting with his hat. "He was injected with some kind of laced heroin and they tried to get it out of his system. Agent Handler was also injected but apparently not as high a dose and she managed to vomit shortly after, which is probably what saved it from running through her as quickly as it did Ray's system. He's suffered massive internal injuries from his fall off the roof. That's all I know right now and that he is in surgery." They turned as the doctor entered..

"He made it through the surgery." He informed them quickly, " But only time will tell if he will recover. There was some heavy bleeding and the drug slowed down his natural healing process. All we can do is wait and see if he wakes up."

"If?" repeated Fraser "What do you mean IF he wakes up?" The Doctor sighed grimly.

"He has a serious concussion, along with all his other injuries which we can't really ascertain until he wakes up. Right now he is in a coma. I'm sorry we've done all we can. I'm afraid his chances are very slim of surviving the night." Everyone grew silent. Finally Fraser spoke.

"I should call his parents." He moved away from them to find a phone. In the lobby he placed his change in the pay phone and dialed the Kowalski's number. He informed them of their son's condition and assured them he would wait until they got to the hospital. He hung up the phone and headed back toward the waiting room. He glanced at a door marked Stairs as he went by, then backed up and pushed the door open. He settled on the stairs and put his face in his hands. Finally he allowed himself to cry.