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NOT MY RAY - May, 2000
by Ashinae

He's not my Ray.

I knew that instantly when I saw him the first time, though he kept insisting that he was Ray Vecchio.

"Everyone here knows who I am, Fraser, how about you?"

I had no idea who this blond stranger was. Except that when my eyes fell on him, and he smiled and came over and hugged me, I must admit that my knees went a little weak.

He was golden and beautiful and so completely unlike Ray Vecchio... but he still had the same kind of fiery spirit that my Ray had. He was almost overwhelming, the entire day, behaviour almost incomprehensible.

He's not my Ray.

When the postcard from the real Ray Vecchio arrived, and I saw our picture... somehow, right then, I knew things would be all right in the long run. Or at least, I knew subconsciously. In the meantime... here was this new Ray, and I couldn't quite make him out, not yet, he was very guarded. However, when I asked him if he wanted to go and get something to eat with me, he seemed to let his defenses down just briefly, and an almost shy smile crossed his face. He was suddenly nervous and I had a feeling, maybe, just maybe there could be something.

We sat across from each other in the Chinese restaurant and he still seemed a little nervous, sending me these little smiles and everything about him had softened. My God, I just couldn't believe how beautiful he was.

But he wasn't my Ray.

I knew it, though he still wouldn't admit it.

When he finally did, in the tomb, I felt a certain satisfaction. But another feeling came along with that satisfaction. I could learn all about this man, this new Ray who wasn't mine.

Oh, no, not mine at all. His heart still belonged to someone else. His ex-wife. I felt instantly guilty for thinking that perhaps there could be something between him and I, something like what I shared with Ray Vecchio; though knowing Ray Kowalski as I was starting to, it would be so completely different at the same time.

He's not my Ray.

I knew that when finally something happened between us. He was driving me to the Consulate after Janet Morse had left, and he stopped me when I made a move to get out of the car. He asked me if I'd like to come to his apartment, have some pizza, watch some TV. "Anything, anything at all," he said, and the expression in his eyes was so intense that I just sat back in the seat and let him drive to his apartment.

We didn't speak a word to each other as we made our way into his apartment, but when he closed the door behind us he turned a glare on me. Demanded what I thought I was doing. I stared at him in shock, and he repeated himself. I had no idea what he was talking about. He pushed me up against the door and asked if I thought it was funny to "Play with me the way you did, Fraser. You think I liked watching you make all cute with her?"

I stared at him some more and everything just clicked right then.

But he's not my Ray.

I knew that as he forcefully took me into his bedroom, all but ripping my uniform off me. My Ray was always so gentle with me, and this Ray, was not gentle but full of fire and passion, was claiming me as his own, telling me I would never think of anyone else.

I couldn't even think what my name was at the time. I was in thrall of him, I had been since that first night over Chinese food, and I still am now.

I was hurt and dismayed that the situation between us deteriorated only a few short months later. That he didn't want to be partners with me anymore. He hit me, made me hit him back, was going to take a transfer and so was I. A very sick form of give and take and he would not back down.

He's not my Ray. My Ray would never...

A "lack of communication". No, Ray Vecchio and I were always on the same wavelength.

This new Ray... he didn't trust me. That's what hurt most of all.

He very unwillingly put his life in my hands... but he did thank me after I had given him air. Instantly after that escaped his lips, he made sure I was well aware that he still wasn't sure about us. It was up to me to save what we shared.

So I was the one to bend and flex, and, thank God, he and I both decided not to leave.

When we returned to Chicago, he just held me, held me close through the night and I had never felt that loved in a long time. I could feel from him the things that remained unsaid, that he was grateful we had not given up what we shared because at times like this, it was just so beautiful, like him.

And as I lay here now, after so much time has passed, I realise how much he really means to me now. He came so close to abandoning me, but he remained, and remains still by my side. I remain by his.

My Ray...

I lean up on an elbow and look down at him; his eyes are closed but I know he's not asleep. He's beautiful.

My Ray...

His eyes open and he smiles a lazy smile at me and I return it, reaching out to run a hand through his hair.

My Ray...

I close my eyes briefly and in that time he pulls me to his chest, stroking a hand down my back. "I love you," he whispers, and I sigh.

My Ray left me.

Left me lost and alone, and this Ray picked me up and dusted me off and opened himself up to me.

Ray hasn't kept in touch, not at all.

That hand on my back stills and I pull back a bit to look down at him, and his hands come up, fingers tangling in my hair and he pulls me down to kiss me. His kisses are like magic, addictive, drug-like, and if all I had to live on were his kisses, I could live life a truly happy man.

"I love you," he whispers again, and I roll over, pulling him on top of me and ask him to show me.

He's gentle and tender now, though sometimes I ask him for more and God, he is incredible.

Ray Vecchio rests in a special place in my heart and in my mind.

This Ray... this Ray that is now consuming me in every possible way--he isn't Ray Vecchio.

But now... now, he is my Ray. My Ray.

He won't leave me. He promises, over and over, that he won't leave me. And I believe him. I have no choice, because he is mine. My Ray.