This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. No infringement of any copyrights held by Due South c/o Alliance is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story.

This story is unabashedly dedicated to Charles DeLint whose work has endlessly enriched my personal mythology and inner landscape.

Into the Green
(Another Faerie Tale by Catalina Dudka - Copyright 1995)

Paper work, there was nothing Ray hated more than paperwork. Especially when it had piled up after days of procrastination, like today. Earlier Lt. Welsh had read Ray the riot act, and now he had no choice but to stay put at his desk until all the paper was cleared up. Ray sat back and rubbed his weary eyes. "Maybe I do need glasses," he pondered. "Naahh..." he resolved shaking his head.

As Ray opened his eyes, he saw her. She walked, no, stalked across the room towards him. Ray couldn't help but notice the way she was put together, and boy, was she put together. The woman wore a long, black sheath of a dress that did not hide the fact that she had curves in all the right places. With every step, the dress parted to reveal legs that went on forever and ever amen. Ray's eyes travelled over the well worn leather jacket, up the slender column of her throat, to settle on the most striking face he had seen in a long time.

The woman stopped beside Ray's desk and smiled a slow, sensuous smile that sparkled in her eyes. Funny, he couldn't tell exactly what colour they were, her eyes seemed to shimmer from green, to gold, to grey, to green again.

"Detective Ray Vecchio?" she questioned.

"The one and only," Ray responded, relieved that his voice hadn't cracked.

He gestured for her to take a seat. Gracefully, she did so, crossing those incredible legs. Ray swallowed and forced his gaze to meet her slanted eyes.

"I need you, Detective Vecchio," she said and the tones of her husky yet melodious voice made Ray's toes curl.

"I love to be needed," Ray answered. "And you are?"

"I'm sorry, " she chuckled softly. "I am called Hazel GreenHeart"

"Hazel?"

"It's an old family name."

"Alright. What can I do for you?"

"Oh many things, I'm sure. But for now I'll settle for your skills as a detective."

"Uh?!"

Brilliant retort Ray, he thought giving himself a mental kick. "I mean ... Uh?!"

Hazel laughed again. "You are the cutest mortal I have met in a long time," she said and pushed back her shoulder length hair, whose colour also seemed hard to pin down.

At first glance, it appeared brown, then you noticed the highlights which ranged from golden auburn, to pale green, the colour of birch leaves sparkling in the sun. And were those ears slightly pointed? The her hair fell back in place, and everything seemed normal again.

"Man, maybe I should get my eyes checked," Ray thought and realized she was addressing him again.

"Detective Vecchio, may I call you Ray?"

"Of course, go ahead."

"I need your help to retrieve an item that is very important to my... family."

Ray listened attentively.

"Recently an old heirloom was stolen. The Twylwyth Fiddle..."

"A fiddle?!" Ray questioned raising his eyebrows.

"Yes. The Fiddle has been in our keep for generations."

"Oh, so it's very valuable then."

"It is priceless. As with all things of great age and tradition, the Fiddle holds a power that if wielded by beings of dubious intent, would mean dire consequences. The Fiddle is a symbol of great meaning among my kin, and if not retrieved before Summer Solstice eve, it will mean the end of the Clan of GreenHeart."

"Excuse me?"

Hazel leaned forward, her hand caressing Ray's wrist, looked deeply into his eyes, mesmerizingly. "I am of the Fiania Sidhe, the Faerie Folk, my people are in great danger, and only you can help us."

"Why me?"

"This quest can only be undertaken with a mortal. You were chosen by the Champion as the one. You are brave, kind, resourceful ... and damn cute to boot!" Hazel sat back breaking the spell.

"Wait a minute! Your are telling me you are a fairy?!"

"Yes."

"Well, then, where are your wings, and magic wand?!"

"You can't believe everything you see in the movies, Ray"

'Oh, I get it!" Ray leaned back in his chair, hitting his forehead. "It's Huey & Louie. They sent you, didn't they? This is to get back at me for the pudding incident last month."

"Detective Vecchio, this is no joking matter."

Hazel's whole demeanour changed. She was still sexy as hell, but now she seemed to glow, crackle around the edges with suppressed energy. It made Ray's hair stand on end, as if he were in the middle of a thunder storm.

"This is a dangerous quest. Without your help everything we are will end in nothingness. You have until tomorrow midnight to make up your mind. You can contact me here with your decision," she said passing Ray a piece of paper.

"And then she left. I ran after her, but she was gone,and no one in the precinct saw her," Ray finished.

"Mmmm," Fraser mmmed.

"Don't give me 'mmm' What do you think?!"

"What was it she gave you Ray?"

"This here," Ray handed Fraser a photocopied poster, the kind that bands use to advertise their gigs all over the city. Fraser read the notice out loud.

"The Greenman Pub Presents: The Thistle Downs - Celtic Folk meets Punk Rock - One night only - Saturday, June 15th -Doors open at 8:00 pm."

"Sounds like an intriguing musical combination. Will you attend Ray?"

"Only if you go with me."

"Me?!"

"I need a reliable witness. I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven."

"Understood," Fraser nodded.

That night Ray lay in bed staring up into the dark of the room. He pictured her again, the legs, the body, the face. "Damn but she was beautiful, too bad she turned out to be a kook," Ray mused as sleep over took him.

Ray found himself in a sunny glade. All around him were silver birches, their leaves whispered in the breeze glittering like a million sequins. Ray heard his name and turned. There she was. Hazel, not the Hazel he met, but something more. She was clearer, her colours more vibrant, her eyes brighter, her skin softer, as if by discarding the shackles of reality, she had become truer to herself.

"Welcome Ray to my hearth."

Her voice flowed over him, tingling along his skin. Hazel slipped her arms around Ray's neck, her long fingers weaving through his hair. With a groan, Ray's arms wrapped around her willowy waist and he crushed his mouth over hers. She moaned against his lips, pressing herself against him. Their tongues duelled as her fingers dug into his shoulders for support. Ray pulled Hazel even closer and thrilled at the little noises of pleasure that escaped her throat.

They pulled back to take a breath. "Wow," they sighed simultaneously, then giggled at each other. Hazel snuggled against Ray contentedly.

"Where are we?" Ray asked, looking around at the trees, gently rolling hills, and sky the colour of turquoise.

"We are in the Dream place. This is where we are born." Hazel answered. "And where we must return periodically to recharge our batteries, so to speak. This level of the Dreamplace is where the Clan of GreenHeart dwells. Here is where we dance the Path of the Green to regain our luck, or magic, if you will. We would dance to the music of the Twylyth Fiddle .But if it is not returned before the Summer Solstice, all this will die forever."

"I don't understand," Ray replied.

"Come with me," Hazel held out her hand.

Ray's strong fingers wrapped around her slender ones, and he felt himself move. Neither gliding, nor flying, yet moving through the air,as if he had become a part of it. Suddenly Ray found himself at the edge of nothing. He was standing at a cliff, beyond which there was no up, no down, nor any kind of reference point. Nothing but nothingness, forever and ever. Ray felt himself sway forward, but Hazel clasped his arm and pulled him back a ways.

"My God!!" Ray whispered horrified. "What the Hell is that!"

"That is what will become of us if the Fiddle is not found, and we fail to dance the Green next Solstice eve."

Ray turned and fell off the bed. Shaking his head he got up. Man, what a dream. Noticing the time, he decided to start the day. Putting on his robe, Ray headed to the bathroom, rubbing his shoulder unconsciously. He noticed that both shoulders ached. Taking his robe off, Ray checked his back in the mirror.

"What the Hell?!"

He couldn't believe his eyes. His back was scored with half-moon shaped scratches, as if someone had dug her fingers into his shoulders.

Ray parked the Riv, then he and Fraser headed towards the Greenman Pub.

"Detective Vecchio?" someone questioned as Ray & Fraser paused inside the door to get their bearings.

"That's me," Ray answered. The man looked familiar.

"Hello, I'm Quinn, Hazel's cousin."

He introduced himself as Ray noted the resemblance. Ray returned the greeting and introduced Fraser. Quinn led them to a table situated on a platform at the side of the club. The spot gave them a clear view of the stage and crowd.

"Quite a mix," Fraser observed.

Ray agreed as his eyes moved over the room and picked out punks, neo-hippies, old hippies, and many other cultural sub-groups. He even saw a person or two wearing kilts. But nowhere did he spot Hazel.

"At least you know she exists," Ben stated.

"Uh?!" Ray's attention returned to his friend.

"I said, at least you know Hazel exists. After all Quinn said he was her cousin."

"Oh, yeah. But I don't see her anywhere. I wonder where she is?"

Ray was interrupted by sudden clapping. Quinn had climbed on to the stage with a bodharn in hand.

"Thank you all," Quinn spoke into the microphone. "You always make us feel most welcome. Well, without further ado, The Thistle Downs!!!"

As the people around the club burst into applause and encouraging hoots, the rest of the band walked on stage. They were an odd assortment of folk. A tall Rasta man made his way to the percussion section in back. Another man, so short he was almost a dwarf, put an instrument that resembled miniature bag pipes to his mouth. A punk girl with white hair that spiked out in all directions picked up an electric guitar, and a young man that seemed her twin, except with black hair, strapped on an electric bass. Last, but not least, Hazel walked on.

Ray felt his heart race at the sight of her. This time she was clad in a vintage floral print dress. Ray had to smile when he noticed her shoes. She was wearing an old pair of lumberjack boots. He had to admit the contrast between her femininity and the rugged footwear appealed to him enormously. Hazel placed a fiddle under her chin, and counted to three.

"That's her," Ray indicated to Fraser, then there was no more room for talk, as the band launched into a lively jig. The crowd surged on to the dance floor and began to move earnestly to the catchy music.

Ray enjoyed every song, especially those sang by Hazel. When the set ended, and the band took a break, Hazel crossed the club to their table. As Fraser and Ray stood to greet her, she flung her arms around Ray and kissed him soundly. Fraser chuckled at the expression on his friends face. Surprised, Ray froze for a heartbeat, but the feel of her warmth against him, and the sweet taste of her lips soon turned surprise to hunger and Ray kissed her back thoroughly.

"Hi," she whispered gazing up at him.

"Hi back," Ray answered loosing himself in her agate eyes.

"Hello," greeted Fraser a bit louder.

"Oh yeah," Ray replied. "This is my friend Constable Benton Fraser. Fraser this is Hazel GreenHeart."

"How do you do, Constable," Hazel held out her hand. "RCMP?"

"Yes, how did you know?" Fraser shook her hand.

"I've kin in Ottawa, and have visited many times," she answered.

"Ahh ..."

"It's a Canadian thing, isn't it?" Ray commented.

"Aha," Hazel and Fraser nodded together.

"I guess we should get down to business," Hazel said, and they sat down.

"Ray, will you accept the quest?"

"First I want to get a few things straight," Ray enumerated, "Number one, you are a faerie. Number two, someone stole your Clan's magic Fiddle. Number three, you need my help to get it back."

"In a nutshell."

"Okay, I'll do it."

"But, Ray?!" Fraser interrupted apprehensively.

"It's okay, Ben. I know what I'm doing. Besides, how hard can it be to find a magic Fiddle?"

"Ray," Hazel spoke up, "this is not an endeavour to be taken lightly. The search will be fraught with danger."

Ray gripped Hazel's hand warmly and gazed into her eyes. "I know," he said solemnly. "And I mean it. I'll do everything in my power to help you."

Hazel felt her heart expand at Ray's vow, and answered simply. "Thank you."

As the band prepared to begin their last set, Benton turned to Ray. "I don't understand. Yesterday you thought she was delusional."

"I know, I know. Something happened a dream, a revelation, I'm not sure, but now I know here," Ray tapped his chest, "in my heart, that if I don't help, something wonderful will be destroyed. And I can't let that happen. Somehow I know this, but I can't explain it."

Fraser watched Ray's face closely, and saw there his friend's conviction. "Alright Ray. I'll help any way I can."

Ray slapped his buddy's shoulder in gratitude and they proceeded to enjoy the rest of the show.

Later, after the house lights were turned up, and the last of the spectators had left. Ray and Fraser were introduced to the rest of the Fiania Sidhe present. In the bright, artificial light Ray couldn't help but wonder how he'd never noticed the differences before. Each member of the Clan of GreenHeart could have passed as human, but once you knew what to look for, the dissimilarities became obvious. Eyes a bit brighter, cheekbones a bit sharper, build a bit longer, or shorter, and they all shared that extra surge of beingness, as if lit up from the inside.

The kin gathered around, solemn faced. Quinn addressed the group. "Detective Vecchio has agreed to aid our Champion in her quest for the return of the Twylyth Fiddle, our Talisman."

Hazel stepped forward. "Whatever the result of our quest, Ray Vecchio, you'll have our eternal gratitude."

"You are the Champion," Ray realized.

"Yes. The two of us are to go forth tomorrow to retrieve the Fiddle."

"How do we start?" Fraser asked.

"I am afraid, Constable, that this venture must only be taken on by the Champion and her chosen Knight," Quinn answered.

"So it's just the two of us?" Ray smiled at Hazel.

"'Fraid so," she smiled back.

After dropping Ben off, Ray drove home in a bit of a trance. His mind reeling at the way his world had been turned on it's ear. Not only do faeries and magic exist, but they chose him to help them out of a mess. Ray concentrated in the new information that was revealed tonight. The Clan figured that the way the Fiddle was stolen in the first place was by a mortal that had stumbled upon the Dream place by accident. That human brought the Talisman into the "real" world, for only a mortal could accomplish this.

Once in this reality, the Fiddle was somehow acquired by the Unseelie court, or the bad guys. By the sound of them, they were bad with a capital "B". These were also faerie folk, but those that have chosen the Path of Bloodshed and Destruction, and, of course, they would like nothing better than to wipe the Clan of GreenHeart off the face of the Earth, just because.

Ray felt mentally exhausted. Man, this bit about having your consciousness expanded gives you a heck of a headache. He lay back in bed and closed his eyes.

Slowly Ray became aware that his temples were being massaged. It felt delicious. Ray's lids drifted open and found himself back in the Dream place with his head cradled in Hazel's lap. This time it was night, the sky overhead was studded with brilliant stars. The grass below felt like living velvet and the air was scented with violets and far away dreams.

Ray reached out and ran his fingers along her cheek. "I feel as if I've known you forever."

"Maybe you have. Remember the Tooth Faerie?"

"That was you?! Ah, now you're pulling my leg."

"I'd rather be pulling something else," Hazel licked her lips suggestively.

Ray caught her face in his hands and kissed her. He rolled so that she was beneath him. Their mouths moved savouring each others essence. Their bodies cradled each other tenderly, yet hungrily. Their minds seemed to meld together, so that Ray forgot where he ended and she began.

Later, they lay in each others arms gazing into the jewelled evening sky.

"I hope remember this tomorrow."

"You, will. I promise," Hazel kissed Ray's lids closed.

They sat in the Riv, the parking lot was empty, beyond lay the darkness of the Park.

"So then, the plan is: We go in. You challenge their leader to combat. And while you are fighting for your life, I grab the Fiddle and run."

"More or less."

"I don't like it."

"Ray, I...."

"Why don't we sneak in and steal it. While they are sleeping, or something."

"Ray, you know I can't do that. We have certain laws, traditions, that must be observed. These rules are an integral part of our being. We'd risk the loss of our luck if we broke or ignored them," Hazel explained patiently. "Even the Unseelie Court has to abide by them. After all they obtained the Fiddle purely by chance."

Ray captured her chin and turned her to face him. "You could get killed."

Her hand cupped his shadowed cheek. "But I won't. I am the champion, you know."

Ray leaned forward brushing his lips over hers. "I think I love you," he whispered into her mouth.

"I know," Hazel smiled.

Laughing quietly, Ray gathered her in his arms and deepened their kiss.

Exiting the car, Hazel adjusted her leather jacket, and patted the pommel of the sword at her side. Ray checked his gun. Returning it to the holster, he noticed Hazel's reproachful look.

"I know. You said it wouldn't do me any good, but I feel safer with it. Hey, I'm a cop!"

"Just be careful."

"I should be telling you that." Ray replied, taking Hazel's hand.

From the shadows across the street, Fraser watched as his friends were swallowed by the night. He knew he couldn't follow, but he could wait here until the end of the world if that's what it took, to know they were safe. If not....

Holding hands, they trod the little-used path. Ray felt the sudden change. First they were in the park, then they were somewhere else. The blackness around them pulsated. He heard things scuttling, with the sound of dry twigs walking. He saw thing moving out of the corner of his eyes. He glimpsed impossible faces, and unreal shapes. Hazel's fingers tightened reassuringly.

A massive portal loomed ahead. It swung open at their approach, with loud protesting groans.

"How original," Ray muttered.

They entered a chamber that seemed enormous. As they paused inside the threshold, a glow appeared ahead. Ray felt Hazel strain forward, and realized the light was being emitted by an object floating in mid air. It was the Fiddle. The Talisman was formed from living wood, covered by a beautifully intricate pattern of leaves and berries. It gave a resonant shine that Ray could feel as well as see.

Then, Ray saw them. The Unseelie Court. At first glance, they looked like any other Fiania Sidhe, until you saw their eyes. There was nothing familiar there, no compassion, no love, no life.

The crowd of creatures parted and a being strode forward. He was stunning, Ray had to admit to himself. The man was tall, slender, but pure muscle. Skin like marble, and ebony hair that flowed past his shoulders. Now Ray knew where the myths about vampires must have come from. Dressed all in black leather, with wicked looking straps, he also carried a sword at his side.

"Pretty boy," Ray called, "why don't you give us the Fiddle, and I promise I won't hurt you."

"Keep the mortal quiet," the Unseelie Laird ordered.

Before Ray could even think about moving, he was seized by a number of strong hands. Completely immobilized, he could do nothing but watch.

Hazel stepped forward. "Well, well, Lochsbie. I would have thought the lesson had been learned the last time."

"Like all females, you do not know when to SHUT UP!!" Lochsbie drew his sword and lunged.

Stepping aside, Hazel wielded her own weapon. Ray watched helplessly as they circled each other. Without warning, the opponents charged, blades clashing with the sound of thunder. With every bone-jarring impact, the combatants moved back and forth across the floor. Lochsbie spun, and his blade slashed, causing a well of blood to flow down Hazel's arm. With a gasp of pain, she clutched her shoulder.

Laughing, Lochsbie backed away. "First blood is mine," he mocked.

"Hey, pretty boy, maybe you should try taking on somebody your own size for a change!" Ray taunted.

The Unseelie Laird growled striding towards him.

"Yeah!! You fairy. You think you can take me?!"

"Ray, be quiet," Hazel interrupted coldly. "Dear Lochsbie, you should know better. One little scratch does not a victory make."

Lochsbie pivoted and charged again. Hazel's sword rose and blocked his. Blazing sparks flew with every clash. Suddenly Hazel faltered. The Laird rushed at her. Moving to the side deftly, Hazel slapped him with the flat of her blade.

Enraged, he lunged again, to have his rump spanked again. Ray couldn't believe it, she was giving the creep as sound beating. Out of control, Lochsbie charged once more. Hazel spun, with a low kick, and sent her opponent sprawling. Kicking his weapon away, she pressed the point of her own to his chest.

"Say uncle, dear," Hazel purred.

Lochsbie tried to rise, but froze beneath her menacing smile, as she pressed her sword further.

"You have won," he conceded.

"Let Ray go," Hazel ordered.

Ray shook off his captors' grip.

"Ray, please take the Fiddle."

The Talisman floated down to him. "Okay, I have it. Let's go."

"Lochsbie, until next time," Hazel saluted the fallen Laird mockingly, then grabbing Ray by the arm, she pulled him through the portal. In a blink they were out of the park, dashing towards the Riv.

"Oh my God.! We did it!!" Ray exclaimed.

"Yes, Ray..." Hazel collapsed against the car.

Ray caught her, and found Fraser supporting her other arm.

"Where did you come from?!"

"It is not important, Ray. We have to get Hazel some help. She seems to have lost a lot of blood."

"Oh man!" Ray noticed the stain on her shirt. "Cook County General has the nearest Trauma Centre."

"No Ray. We'd better take her to the Clan. I doubt the hospital is equipped for non-human emergencies."

"You're right. Let's go to the Greenman."

At the pub, Ray handed the Fiddle to Quinn, as other Sidhe carried an unconscious Hazel through a bright portal behind the stage. Ray tried to follow, but Quinn blocked his way.

"I am sorry, Detective Vecchio, you can't help her now. She needs to heal at her hearth, among her own."

"I need to know."

"You'll be contacted as soon as possible. Thank you for your aid," Quinn stepped through, and the gateway disappeared with a flash.

After dropping Fraser off, a drained Ray returned home and went straight to bed. Hoping against hope, nevertheless he slept a dreamless night.

In the morning Ray dragged himself into work. On his desk he found two envelopes addressed in a handsome, calligraphic hand. One was for him, the other for Fraser. Ray tore open his envelope, and fished out a beautifully illuminated invitation.

"You are cordially invited to join with Clan GreenHeart in the Summer Solstice Celebration to be held at Greenman Pub on June 20th."

Then underneath a simpler hand had written.

"You better be there, Ray. H."

"You look fine, Ray," Fraser reassured his friend.

"I'm not sure, Benny. After all, this is the first time I have gone to a Summer Solstice party thrown by Faeries."

"Well, if this celebration were being hosted by Wiccans, we'd be obliged to attend 'sky-clad'"

"Sky-clad?"

"Nude, Ray."

"What?!?"

"Now, don't worry. The invitations specified formal dress," Fraser chuckled while adjusting his red serge.

"Yeah, that's right," a relieved Ray brushed at his Armani suit.

The doors of the pub swung open at their knock. Quinn ushered them in. And Ray was relieved to see he was dressed, in a flamboyant suit of blue velvet.

"Welcome friends. Everyone is waiting."

They proceeded through the bright portal and found themselves in the silver birch grove, surrounded by the gaily clad Sidhe. They were welcomed with much hand shaking, hugging, kissing and back slapping.

Suddenly the crowd parted and Ray saw Hazel. She looked wonderful in a green velvet gown trimmed in gold, with a wreath of Rowan berries and leaves round her head. Ray opened his arms, and hazel ran to him. Their lips met, as the multitude around them cheered.

Fraser and Ray joined in the celebration. They danced, sang, ate scrumptious food, and drank excellent wines.

"Friends, it is time." Hazel announced as Quinn handed her the Fiddle. Fitting it under her chin, she began to play a stately, yet magical tune. As the music flowed, a path appeared before her, as if made of moonlight. She stepped on to it, treading it's intricate pattern. One by one the Sidhe followed. Ray and Fraser watched with awe, the quiet beauty of the Dance bringing tears to their eyes, and joy to their hearts.

Later, Ray found himself alone with Hazel. The rest of the revellers had dispersed, even Fraser, who Quinn had given a ride home. Ray held her tight. Her fingers caressed the nape of his neck, as her cheek brushed against his jaw.

"Well this is goodbye, then," Ray stated.

"It has to be this way," Hazel whispered, pulling back to gaze deeply into his eyes. "I cannot survive separated from my kin, and I can't take you away from your world."

"No," Ray admitted.

"I am grateful to have been with you this long. I will cherish the memories for ever."

"Me too."

"Yes, you too," Hazel smiled, but her eyes could not. Slowly, opalescent tears seeped from between her lashes.

"No, Hazel, don't cry," Ray pleaded and kissed the sweet tears away.

Reluctantly, Hazel pushed away, and picked up the Fiddle. Tucking it under her chin, she played a haunting tune. Ray felt the magic take a hold, and pull him home. He caught one last glimpse of her, and then ...

Ray woke with the sun shinning on his face. He moaned and turned away, trying to recapture the last vestiges of his dream, but it was too late. Well, it must have been a good one, because he felt great. Oh, well, there's always next time, he thought and got ready for work.

The feeling of well being did not last long. When Ray arrived at the precinct, Lt. Welsh called him into the office and read him the riot act. Now Ray had to stay put at his desk until all the paper work was cleared up. Paper work, there was nothing Ray hated more than paperwork.

The sweet sound of a fiddle drifted in through an open window. Ray paused to listen. Boy, some street musicians sure are talented, Ray mused getting back to work, some of his good mood restored.

The End. Cat (cdudka@direct.ca)