By Anam71

March 2000

NC-17 for M/M slash, angst, love, hurt/comfort, AU and all that other stuff.

A drama/romance/angst fest featuring Fraser and Vecchio and our friend Victoria.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em...jeez... and so don't sue me...please.

E-mail me at: Anam71@aol.com

Beauty and love are all my dream;

They change not with the changing day;

Love stays forever like a stream

That flows but never flows away.

-from 'Beauty and Love' by Andrew Young (1885-1972)

He was in a hospital.

He was in the hospital again, the bright fluorescent lights in his eyes and the stench of disinfectant in his nose. All of it was harsh and intrusive to his vulnerable senses.

And he slowly opened his eyes and blinked, confused and aching. Aching all over with the pain. Oh yes, and the pain. Can't forget the pain.

He was definitely in a hospital.

Was he shot in the back?

No. No. That was long ago. A very long time ago.

The pain was different this time, it was in his ribs and his head and his legs and in his arms. This pain was diffuse and widespread, not concentrated in his lower back like before when Ray had accidentally shot him.

A flash of memory came to him now, a fragment of something about the stairs in his apartment, then it quickly fell away, passing him by. He tried harder for that fragment again.

RAY!

Oh God! Where was Ray?

All he could remember was the hard dark staircase and Ray's blood all over his hands, and all over Ray. So much blood, Ray's blood.

"RAY!" Fraser was screaming his friend's name, but it only came out in a small mouse squeak and now the searing pain in his ribs made him wince.

He tried to lift his head and body, but he was only greeted with futile defeat and more agony. Ray?

"Hey, Fraser. You're awake? Try not to move, okay?" A familiar and friendly male voice at his side, but not Ray. Who?

Huey had carefully explained what happened to him, had done his best to describe it: the apartment, the stairs, Victoria, a gun, an ambulance, then the hospital.

Fraser took his word for it; his throat was raw from the tubes and his arms sore with needle pricks. He had no reason to doubt, but he couldn't actually remember all the fine details. It would all come back to him eventually, like a nightmare. He would wait for it.

"Victoria escaped before the squad cars arrived, Fraser. Your neighbors wanted to stop her, but she was armed. She just got up and limped away. We have an APB out on her, and the airport and major highways are being patrolled. I don't know if she will go too far Fraser, she may be in pretty bad shape."

Fraser let out a small weak squeak. "Ray?"

Huey let out a long and miserable sigh. "Ray was shot at close range in his shoulder, and he just got out of surgery a little while ago. He is in the ICU now, and surgeon said he's going to be okay, but Ray did lose a lot of blood. Some of the guys at the precinct came to the hospital to donate blood... Hey Fraser? Are you okay? Want me to get a nurse? Huh?"

The Mountie glanced down at his pale hands: he was clutching scraps of white sheets so hard that his sweat dampened and stained the cloth.

Fraser cried out in awful raw terror, and then again, louder. A nurse looked at him inquiringly and peered down the side of his arm and swabbed it with an isopropyl alcohol pad.

"It's all right Mr. Fraser. Shhhh, now. That's it, that's the way." And she did as she promised, and made everything all right with a sedative.

<><><><>

After nearly a week in bed, Fraser was well enough to stand and somewhat walk now, and he was eating again though only in small amounts. His sore ribs and broken wrist sapped him of his appetite.

And Ray too, sapped him and drained him of all of his energy. He really needed to see Ray. Maybe the nurses will let him see his friend soon; maybe if he ate all of his meals he'll be on their good side.

He had a number of visitors from the precinct, and none of them bearing any good news. Victoria had disappeared into thin air again, gone swiftly into hiding, and clever and sly enough to evade the Chicago police and FBI despite her injuries.

Is that why he had loved her once? How could he? He felt ill at the thought.

He tried not to think about it.

Mrs. Vecchio and Francesca paid him a visit and told him that Ray was doing better and was moved to his own room. He may have to undergo some physical therapy for his damaged left shoulder, but he should get full use of his left arm again. Ray even asked about him and how he was doing. This cheered up the Mountie considerably, and he chatted with the Italian women some more.

The familiar physical therapist Jill Kennedy had stopped by later that afternoon, and she talked to him for quite a while. She was soon going to be treating Ray when he was well enough and mentioned how strange it was that the cop was shot in the same shoulder twice. Fraser's left thigh happen to be repeatedly a target for the occasional knife blade and stray bullet too. It was strange how these guys had way too much in common, she thought.

Fraser felt much better the next day, and it was true. He felt intensely alive and excited, somehow; the drugs were out of his blood now, leaving him wired and energetic and purposeful. He wanted to see Ray, tell Ray he loved him, and tell Ray he was wrong.

After some pleading with his nurse, he was able to see Ray in the recovery room and Fraser did not like what he saw. The detective's face was horribly gaunt, and there was a strange quality to his hazel eyes that Fraser didn't care to dwell on.

"Ray?"

Ray didn't say anything; his throat was painfully sore and his left shoulder was tightly bandaged up and stiff. Ray simply looked at him, blinked, then fell asleep.

And Fraser left exhausted and beaten, wanting to return to his own hospital bed.

But instead he was greeted by Lieutenant Welsh and Detective Huey who brought some gift shop flowers as concerned friends. Then they routinely questioned him as concerned cops.

"It wasn't anything to do with Ray. It was just between Victoria and me, and Ray just came at the wrong time. She was trying to see me again and Ray found her, and she had a gun. You don't believe any of this do you?"

"Of course we do, Fraser. Why would you lie?" Huey gently asked, touching his arm.

Fraser shrugged. Belief, disbelief, what did it matter? The case was still open, she was gone, and he'd been wrong, disastrously wrong, again.

Later he sat by the window blankly staring out, and with a soft knock at the door Jill entered his room with a concerned look on her pretty face. "Hey, Benton."

"Um, hello Miss Kennedy. What is wrong?"

"Well, I just spoke to Ray about his therapy and he mentioned you, Fraser."

"He did?" Fraser suddenly sat up in bed with a happy grin, and this made the physical therapist sadly sigh.

"Uh, yeah. Well, Ray told me to let you know that he doesn't want you to visit him anymore, okay?"

Fraser stared at her incredulously. "What? Ray said that? Why?"

"I don't know, Benton. Maybe he doesn't want you to see him when he is sick, you know? Maybe some macho Italian act he is pulling. Well anyway, I wouldn't take it personally, okay? He just feeling bad now and maybe he prefers to be alone. Some people are just like that."

"Maybe you are right."

Fraser stayed in bed for most of that day, not really eating and not really sleeping much. He knew why Ray had refused to see him. He shouldn't be surprised, though. Hadn't he refused Ray first by not talking to him? And now the detective was lying in the hospital with a bullet hole in the shoulder again. Why did he keep doing this to Ray?

The Mountie was finally released from the hospital, and Inspector Thatcher gave him compassionate leave due to 'exceptional medical and personal circumstances.' She thought that sounded right. Fraser will be back on light duty in a few weeks at the consulate.

And Fraser spent most of his time in his tiny apartment with Dief and the occasional visitor from work, the precinct, or the Vecchio home. He was thankful, of course, and considerate, but not really caring.

Elaine and Francesca were his most frequent visitors, bringing him meals and walking Dief in the nearby park. Sometimes they came by a little too often and he was growing restless and impatient.

Fraser just wanted to go back to work at the consulate and perform his duties.

And he wanted Ray. Ray who had been his best friend, partner, brother, and lover, the other half of his soul. Ray was now gone from his life, for he had no further contact with the Italian since his last visit in the recovery room.

He heard from Francesca that Ray was doing fine and was recently discharged from the hospital. Ray still had to do his physical therapy with Jill Kennedy and he will not be able to work for several more weeks. Francesca was now his official chauffeur and had to drive her disabled brother everywhere and it was beginning to drive her absolutely crazy.

Francesca was sitting with the Mountie at the small kitchen table. She had just invited him over for dinner at the Vecchio home and to visit her brother Ray, but Fraser flatly refused.

"Why Benton?" She looked up at him surprised; according to her brother, he had never refused an invitation to dinner before.

"I just can't. I do not want to be a burden."

"Huh? You coming for dinner was never a burden. We love having you over, especially Ma. Ray would be happy to see you..."

"No he wouldn't!"

"Why?" Was Fraser actually getting all emotional now? Frannie was getting a weird feeling about this.

"Because he just wouldn't. Please don't make me go..."

She sat there staring at the Canadian, and saw the same exact pained face this morning on her brother when she had to drive him to physical therapy. For a long time now Ray had seemed tormented and despondent, but she thought it was just him reacting to his severe shoulder injury. Yet somehow she knew there was much more to that, but she just couldn't figure it out.

Well, the two men haven't seen each other for weeks, which is very strange for very close friends. Hell, both of them were nearly killed by this Victoria person. Maybe that's why both of them had been acting so weird. Actually, they both seemed to be in outright agony.

They were close friends and were practically each other's shadow. When one itched did the other one scratch? When one was pricked did the other one bleed? Hmm?

Very, very close friends, but too close? Well, best friends are supposed to be very close, right? But how close is fucking close? She suddenly flinched at her realization, her mouth hanging open. Oh no way! Oh God!

"Do you love him?" Francesca's dark eyes were hard as marbles, like a judge at a last-chance hearing. She demanded to know, anxious by the force of her sudden attack.

"What?" Fraser quickly looked up and was shocked at the abrupt question coming from Ray's sister, of all people. He wouldn't have expected it from her, but she was Ray's sister after all, and in some of her ways was just as keen as his former partner.

"Are you in love him?"

"What does..."

"Do you love him?"

"Francesca, please..."

"Do you love my brother!?!"

"Yes!" Fraser was angry at her, harshly whispering and his eyes pleading and aching. He had not slept well for days and was weak in his sleeplessness and fear. Why did she have to do this to him? Why can't they all just leave him alone? He was crushed.

"Yes, I love him."

"Okay, Benton." Fraser now clearly saw her own fear; here was something beyond even her, beyond her own wild and outspoken personality. And she knew what to fear, but this was something totally different for her. She felt ready to topple out of her seat.

So, Fraser was really in love with her whiny string-bean brother. When the hell did all of this happen? Did it occur before or after she had paraded around in front of Fraser in her skimpy panties? Had Ray paraded in front of him in his skimpy underwear too? Oh Jesus!

"I'm sorry, Francesca."

She pulled herself together and gave him a nervous and mild smile. "It's okay. I kinda figured it out from Ray..."

"Ray told you?" Fraser blue eyes went round in terrified shock.

"Jeez, no! Ray never tells me anything! That's why I have learned to read him after all these years of living with that spoiled brat. And I have to tell ya Benton, Ray is really miserable."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Ray was miserable! What about him! He was miserable because of Ray refusing to see him, and Ray was miserable for refusing to see him! And Fraser was angry again.

The young Italian woman sighed and shook her head. This wasn't going to be easy as she thought it would be; Fraser was usually docile, logical, and reasonable. Obviously the break between Benton and her brother was a real bad one, and she was beginning to feel like goddamn Ricki Lake.

Damn them both.

"God, Fraser. If you love him, then you should go to him and..."

"No. I tried at the hospital, and that's it."

"But Benton..."

"No! I just can't go through this again. I can't take it! Do you understand?"

"Fine! Then the both of you can be miserable for all of your lives. Shit, you two really deserve each other."

Francesca impatiently got up from the small kitchen table and put on her coat, and she headed for his door. She now had to go pick up her miserable brother from physical therapy. Great!

"I'm really sorry, Francesca."

She sadly regarded the Mountie. "And I'm sorry for you, too."

She left, and Fraser was heavily leaning against the door, breathing deep and his eyes closed and feeling sick to his stomach.

He barely made it to the communal bathroom and was sick and vomiting. Fraser bent over the toilet like a voodoo priest reading entrails: I see fortuitous times for you, I see a long journey ahead alone, without your friend and lover, Ray.

<><><><>

Ray idly drove about the city planning on how he would settle the matter with the Mountie, desperately seeking that final closure he had wanted for the past few months. They both needed to get on with their lives. They both needed to end this, to break this.

Ray was exhausted.

He really couldn't sleep anymore, a real old-fashioned, down-to-earth, deep kind of sleep. Ray was in a mild state of somnambulism most of the time, at work and at home.

Sleeping, sleeping. Whoever thought anyone could sleep so much? Or not sleep so much? Or need it so much? Shit.

So he planned to see Benton Fraser for one final time, to settle things and to have his say. He owed the Canadian that much, at least. Just two friends parting their ways. Then he'll be on his way. Happens all the time.

Maybe there can really be no planning, he should just dive in and get it over with like tearing off a band-aid. Sort of like his divorce with Angie.

For a moment the detective felt like vomiting and had to quickly pull over to the curb. How can he lose another loved one? What happened? What was the matter with him?

Why him?

"Why not?" He then continued his dismal journey through Chicago.

Ray didn't mind driving around; he had desperately missed it during the few months his shoulder was mending. Driving his Riv meant his independence and his sanity. And after spending months being driven around by his sister Frannie, Ray thought he was ready to lose all of his marbles. He truly belonged in his Riv.

Frannie had also been giving him really strange looks too. A mixture of sadness, pity, and anger, it seemed like. He was especially happy to get away from her.

He was also happy to get away from Jill Kennedy as well. It was not that he didn't like her, he had actually liked her quite a lot and she had enough balls to stand up to his endless complaining through all of that painful physical therapy. It was just that the blonde therapist reminded him of that dark time of Benny being in the hospital with a bullet in his back. Ray even had told her this once under a purple haze of painkillers and Jill simply shrugged, "Well, you are no ball of sunshine either, Ray."

During his long physical therapy they had talked about anything and everything, and Jill was now the only person on earth who knows of his true relationship with Benny. He didn't exactly open his soul up to her, but the clever woman in time figured it out for herself. And the next thing he knew he was talking about Fraser non-stop with her as if they were old high school girlfriends chatting away about their immature boyfriends. Jill even mentioned some losers she had dated once and Ray quietly promised himself to check to see if any of these assholes had any outstanding traffic violations or prior convictions.

"If you really love him Ray, then you need to talk to him and listen to him."

"He never talks to me, he never tells me anything and he shuts me out. So what's the point?"

They must have had this conversation a million times and it almost seemed that Jill wanted to yank off his left arm and beat him over the head with it. The physical therapist must have been especially relieved to finally see him go, he glumly thought. Oh well.

Ray spent most of the afternoon driving around the city looking for Fraser but not really wanting to find him. Finding him meant confronting him, and confronting him meant putting an end to things. An end to him and Benny.

He should have done it long ago, at the hospital when Fraser was sitting there by his bedside sadly staring at him instead of putting it off. But at that time he couldn't even stand to look at Fraser, not after what he done to him again. The guy was in love with this psycho bitch and Ray kept busting them up. Why couldn't he just let the Mountie go on and live his own life? Just let him go.

Get over it, Ray.

Why did he want to be so wrapped up in Fraser's life anyway? Why? To help him? To care for him, to teach him, to give him what? Enlightenment? Signposts on the road to contentment? Life management skills? To manage his life into what? Ray's life? His life was total crap! Fucked up as Fraser might be, he was still the better man.

Let him go, let him be. End it!

But Ray had put it off, and he had waited and waited. It's not as if they had a set time limit, and if Ray had his own way it would be open-ended and he would be very close enough to going completely crazy. So it had to stop; he wanted it to stop. Didn't he?

Well?

Think about how this feels; this is an experiment in consciousness. Pay attention! Stick to the plan! Damn it.

Ray had called Mr. Mustafi on his cell phone, but the man said Fraser wasn't in his apartment today. Fraser wasn't at the consulate since it was a Sunday, and the Mountie had the day off. Perhaps he was at the park with Dief? He'll just drive by and look... No! Not at the park.

The diner.

The Mountie was at the diner.

It was a long shot, but Ray had that weird-psychic feeling again. That very same feeling that had somehow directed him to find the Mountie at the diner three years ago when Fraser had only his father's journals to speak to him.

Ray came to speak to him, to help him, to be his friend, to be his partner, and eventually, for a fleeting moment, to be his lover.

A very fleeting moment.

And now Ray came to him to finally end all that. He swiftly made a U-turn for the diner, following that weird-psychic feeling. It must be some sort of Italian metaphysical cosmic thing.

<><><><>

Fraser had been coming here a lot now, not really knowing where else to go on the weekends.

He had been here every weekend for months, all day at that small table. A cup of tea, then another cup of tea. Then another tea, all day long, one after another, all weekend long. He was really beginning to really hate tea.

He would usually be in Ray's presence during the weekend, mostly at his home with his clamorous and loving family. He was part of the Vecchio family; he was practically Ray's brother. He would help Ray around the house, helping him fix things; it was a really an old house. Or maybe they shoot some hoops, and Ray would always win because Ray was so good. And Ray would just drive him around in his Riv, really going no where in particular, or maybe to his apartment. It didn't matter. He just simply wanted to be with Fraser, he loved him.

Fraser ruined it all.

He had hurt Ray.

Fraser had read through most of his father's journals, and found no incident as related by his father to help him in his current situation. There were just a few things his father didn't do that he had done, especially with his best friend. On the other hand, jumping off the edge of a snowy cliff couldn't hurt right about now.

He looked down at the scribbled pages, his father's most effective way of speaking to him. The man did really try, didn't he? His dead father.

"I like to think I'd tried, son."

"Hello, dad. I have not seen you for awhile."

"Well, you cannot begin to imagine how busy one can get when one is dead, son."

"Ah, just as busy as when you were alive?"

His father gave him a subtle sideways glance across the table, knowing the full meaning behind that question. But the old man remained undaunted and at least we was wearing a new and fully intact stetson today, not half a stetson like the last time when he had visited his son in a diner.

"Hard to tell, son. Sometimes you just can't compare life to death. The frame of reference is just too vast to fathom. Speaking of which, it looks like you are about ready to join me judging by that horrible look on your face."

"Ah, thank you, dad. Any more kind words of encouragement?"

"As a matter fact, yes. I believe you were very wrong regarding the yank."

"Oh really? And how is that?" Fraser knew he was glaring at his father now and he couldn't help it. What did his father know of Ray anyway?

"The man is your best friend and partner... um, among other things, and you have shut him out of your life, leaving him totally in the dark. You were wrong in doing so."

"Really?"

"Yes, son. You have certainly made a big mess of it all. The type of mess you need to clean up with a mop and bucket. I remember a time when me and Buck..."

"Look, I was trying to protect him! I was trying to protect him from Victoria! That was all. I didn't want Ray to get involved in any of my problems."

"That's where you went wrong, son. The man doesn't need your protection, never has, and a strong proud man like that will take offence at such treatment. And besides, he is your best friend, and so it is his duty to help you and he knows that."

"But look what happened to him the last time! He nearly lost everything he had worked for because of me! I had given him nothing but pain and trouble and misery."

"And yet he has remained by your side through it all. The man is very loyal to you, and you threw it back into his face when you had to face trouble again. You left him out of the loop, you can say, and you have decided that any help he can offer you was unworthy of your consideration. How do you think he feels about that?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing. I did it because I love him."

Upon hearing his son's heartfelt declaration of undying love, Fraser Senior uncomfortably shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, but he still remained determined. "Um, well that is very nice son, but since when have you became right about everything all the time?"

Fraser quickly looked up at his father genially smiling at him with his hands folded over his chest and casually leaning back, the older Mountie joyfully knowing that he had finally hit a raw nerve in his son. He was certainly having a good day, Fraser thought; it must be the brand new stetson he was wearing. He was probably glad he had decided to wear the red dress uniform today, too.

"I never said I was always right, dad. I'm usually right about a lot of things, but..."

Fraser Senior impatiently sighed at his son and shook his head. "I never said that you said you were always right. I meant do you always think that you are always right?"

The young Mountie looked down to the table, staring at his hands helplessly. "I don't know what to think."

"Well think fast, son! Maybe this time you will get your second chance after all."

"What?"

And Fraser felt that familiar heat and smelled that familiar scent even before he looked up to see Ray gracefully slide into the opposite seat where his father had just been sitting. He was quite stunned at this new and unexpected visitor.

"Ray?"

"Hey, Fraser." The detective wasn't looking at him, but was resolutely looking down to the journal on the greasy table.

"Your father's journal?"

"Um, yes Ray."

Ray finally looked up at him, the hazel eyes more beautiful then Fraser had first remembered, but the face thinner and haggard. The shoulders were slightly slumped forward, the left one a little more rigidly than the other. He was not entirely all right.

"Hello Ray."

Ray still looked at him sadly. "Hello, Fraser."

"How are you doing Ray?"

"I'm fine." Ray let out a small sigh. Damn, I'm also a liar, Benny, but why should it matter?

A waitress came by to offer him coffee, but Ray waved her away. He didn't want to stay long, and coffee meant staying.

"That's good to hear. Um, Ray, how is everyone at the precinct?"

"They're fine too, Fraser."

Ray moved awkwardly in his seat as he realized they were staring at each other just a little too intensely. And Ray was feeling strange, embarrassed had he ever touched another man before Fraser? Beyond the schoolyard wrestling of childhood, of teenagers hitting and shoving in play? Stop staring at him!

He folded his slender hands on the table and decided to stare at those instead.

And Fraser decided to stare at Ray's hands too.

"Um, Fraser. I just stopped by to talk to you quickly, okay?"

"Okay."

"Uh, about Victoria, Welsh told me the FBI has no leads on her whereabouts. She may have been sighted in Toronto, but there is nothing substantial so far. As for the Jeff Gillray case, well, it still remains unsolved and sitting on Huey's desk. Jack wanted to interview that witness Theodore Jenkins to see if he can identify Victoria from a photo, but we just couldn't locate the guy anywhere. He probably just drifted off somewhere new. I just thought ya like to know."

"Thank you, Ray. I have been getting updates concerning Victoria from the RCMP, and there has been little progress. She seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth."

Ray frowned at him and shrugged, a sharp stabbing of pain now in his left shoulder from the simple motion. "I'm really sorry about that, Fraser."

"What?"

"I mean I'm sorry about you and Victoria. I messed things up for you again. I know you love her very much..."

"No Ray. You are so wrong."

"I'm right, Fraser. I keep screwing things up for you. I have always been a screw up. I keep fucking up your life, keeping you away from the only woman who loves you. I did it to you twice. Jesus Christ."

"Listen to me, Ray. You did nothing wrong. I was trying to protect you, but actually you saved me from her again. She is a criminal and a fugitive, and you came to arrest her..."

"I came again between you and Victoria! And she came because she truly loves you and..."

"Ray, you are the first person, the only person, to truly love me for whom I really am."

"Jeez! Come on, Fraser, not now. Please."

"Listen to me Ray. Others that have loved me before always wanted to change me, so that I may fit their needs and fit their demands. My father, my grandparents, Victoria, and yes, also Inspector Thatcher. There was always that tradeoff, what I had to give up in order to receive love. But with you Ray, I didn't have to give up anything."

"But what about you Fraser? You love her because she is a woman and she can offer you what I can't..."

"I don't love her Ray! I thought I did once, but I don't!"

Ray winced and lowered his head close to the table, angrily whispering. "Damn, Benny! Keep it down, will ya? Jeez." Nobody in the diner took any notice of them; they had their own problems.

"Sorry, Ray."

"Fraser, why didn't you let me know that Victoria was actually back? Why wouldn't you talk to me? Huh?"

"Ray, I wasn't really sure she was back or not. But I didn't want you to get involved again. I didn't want you to get hurt again by Victoria. I was trying to protect you."

"Hey, great job Fraser." Ray sorrowfully indicated with his sore left shoulder. "Did you know that whatever happens to you happens to me? Did you know I would always be in your face and in your business? I mean, we were just in your bed and... I mean, damn, you let me touch you and shit and then you pushed me aside. I thought we were really partners. We share everything, right? I touched you Benny, you let me touch you and I wanted you... Damn it."

Ray was getting annoyed now. How did he get so sidetracked? This conversation was not supposed to be about who loved who or who loved what. It was about getting all this shit off his chest so that he can get some sleep tonight, goddamn it!

"Look! I really have something to say to you Fraser, okay? That's why I'm really here. Okay? After we straighten this shit out, then we can go on with our own lives."

"Understood." Fraser felt very apprehensive at the tone of finality in his friend's voice. He sat there silently; this was not working out the way he wanted it to.

Fraser wanted to mend, but Ray wanted to break.

And Ray was sitting there with his hands pressed flat on the table as if he would launch himself at him, maybe to strangle him? Well, certainly not to kiss him.

"Okay. You see Fraser, I thought I saw a gun in her hand..."

"Oh God, Ray..."

"I thought she was pointing a gun at you, that's why I only fired my weapon. I thought she was going to kill you. I thought she had a gun, I swear to God, Fraser. I had no idea she was simply reaching out to you, that you were actually going with her. I mean, you running away with her, I didn't expect that all. I couldn't believe you would ever do such a thing, and to me? But I guess I didn't know much then. God, I simply thought you were trying to apprehend her."

Fraser shrugged, not even looking at him now. He just didn't know how to answer his best friend, his heart full of shame and guilt. They both have been carrying this load too long.

Ray idly ripped open a sugar packet and poured the white crystals onto the table, and he kept his slender hands busy as his dark thoughts spilled out as words from his mouth. They were bitter thoughts, unlike the sugar.

"But you actually thought I was trying to kill you so I can save the house, save my career. Damn, the house I don't care about, it will always be Pop's house, not mine. I could always find somewhere else for my family to live. And as for my career, hell, I was never Super Cop..."

"No! No, Ray. I never thought once you would intentionally hurt me. Never, I promise you."

Ray stared at him incredulously with that hard cold glint in his hazel eyes, as if he was readying himself to decipher a con job; a familiar look Fraser had often observed when Ray would question a suspect in an interrogation room of the precinct.

Fraser couldn't believe how far-gone their relationship was to now receive that hard cop stare from his very own partner.

"Then why did you say that then in your apartment, that I would actually hurt you, that I wanted to shoot you in the back?"

"Because I knew it was what you thought of yourself. You thought you had intentionally hurt me, and so I took advantage of your guilt to hurt you."

"What? Why?"

"I was upset and hurt that afternoon when we talked about the possibility of Victoria returning to Chicago. You doubted me that I would arrest her, and that made me very angry. I mean, after all we went through together? After what she put us both through? You did not trust me. You actually thought I would protect her, I would even run away with her, that I..."

"You tried to the last time! All I got to work on is past experience!" Ray snapped out, and suddenly winced at his angry tone when he saw his friend flinch back.

Hadn't the Mountie performed his duty the first time when he arrested Victoria for the bank robbery? Was it his fault that a deep conscience and consuming guilt had plagued Fraser for ten long years? And that Victoria had used that as her trump card when she was released from jail. Fraser also loved her too, so of course he would cave in. He was only human, not Superman.

"I'm so sorry, Fraser. Damn, I was wrong to doubt you. I just didn't know what to think at the time, okay? I mean, you weren't speaking to me at all and I only assumed the worst. Shit, what could I do? I'm really sorry."

Oh God, was he wrong! Was Ray any better? Hell, he was willing to let Susan Chapin go free at the drop of a hat. Who was he to judge?

Obviously the past and the train station platform was still a bleeding thorn in his side, and Ray was ready to leave this diner and never look back. Forget it and the Mountie. He made a wreck of everything. God, they would have been better off if they had never met.

"I'm the one who is sorry, Ray, the way I have treated you back then. I'm sorry for betraying you like that, then making you feel bad during your visits in the hospital. Then to top it off, I get you involved in that blackmail incident and you got shot by Doctor Carter."

"Forget it. It's okay. Just forget about it. It doesn't even matter now." Ray really wanted to leave; he just didn't care anymore. He began to fidget in his seat, totally suffering now. This was a big mistake.

"You were the only person to visit me, you know? In the hospital."

"Shit, Fraser! I shot you in the back!"

"I will always be sorry for what I have put you through, how she got to me and brought out the worst in me. And what I did to you..."

Ray wretchedly sighed and shook his head. The conclusion was simple: Victoria was pure fucking poison.

"Benny, I believe she brought out the worst in both of us, and we can just equally blame ourselves for letting her do so. We were both blind-sided and we are both sorry, okay? We are both sorry and that is it. Although, I believe you got the worst end of the deal. I mean, you slept with her, right? Yuck!"

Fraser looked at him and he just couldn't share Ray's sense of humor at this moment. He was surprised that Ray even had a sense of humor after all they had been through and maybe he should be thankful for that at least, but the dire circumstances now just wouldn't allow it. He was too intent on picking up what was salvageable of their friendship and gluing the broken pieces together.

Fraser actually felt he was haphazardly sewing a quilt back together after it being torn into a thousand shreds.

But the detective wasn't interested in fucking quilts, he simply wanted to go home now and be left alone, where it was safe; he was sick of all the hurt. He had said what he had basically wanted to say; now it was time to go.

Ray glanced outside and grimaced when he saw the rain pouring down, the dirty gray snow now washing away in streams. Home now, Vecchio! Go home now!

It was one of those cold winter rains that made your bones ache and teeth chatter. Damn. He felt that nagging twinge in his left shoulder now. Go home!

"I have to go, Fraser."

He got up and pulled on his overcoat then looked at the Canadian with a miserable sigh. One last show of kindness, and that's it! And no more! Never again. Okay?

One for the road.

"Hey Fraser, do you want a ride home? It's raining pretty heavy out there."

The Mountie looked up at him very surprised. "Um, I would appreciate it Ray. Thank you kindly."

"Let's go." Ray, not waiting or looking back, headed for the door and Fraser quickly followed.

Back in the familiar passenger side of the Riv again, Fraser felt his body flow and mold perfectly into his old worn seat. God, he belonged here.

Staring out the window he watched the cityscape quickly ribbon past him, the journey not long enough for him; eventually he would have to exit the Riv and Ray would be on his way and out of his life.

All too soon the classic green car pulled up to the curve in front of the old apartment building. He was home now.

"Here ya go, Fraser. Goodbye."

"Ray, will you come up and stay? Just to talk."

"Benny, I don't think so. I better leave, okay?"

"Please, there is so much we need to talk about. Actually about us..."

"I can't stay." His friend now clenched the steering wheel hard, trying to keep his voice neutral calm.

"Ray..."

"To be truthful, Fraser, all of this is beyond me, I'm out of my fucking depth here if you know what I mean. I wanted us to explore, to experiment, but this, here, this is one experiment I want to stop, I don't know how, but I want it to stop, okay? Is that okay with you?"

The slender man raised up his hands in frustration, and dropped them onto his lap. He heavily sighed and he wanted to leave. It was raining really hard now, the car deafening with the pounding raindrops on the hood and roof. Damn.

"It's not because I don't love you Benny, because I do. It's just the love I have to offer you, the only way I know how to love, it's not what you are looking for. I just know it. Look at me, I'm a fucking guy! I cannot love you the way she loves you, I can't. And I cannot do that to you, because I love you too much, and I cannot do that to myself because it's killing me. Oh God, I have no idea what I'm talking about now."

"I believe you do, Ray. Look, I don't want her. She never loved me, not really, and I know now I do not love her."

"Oh God, Benny. She is still out there..."

"I do not love her, Ray. I love you." Fraser was now pointing to his chest, an index finger to his heart.

Ray stared at him, or actually stared at his finger resting on his heart covered by the bright red serge. Damn! Had he been talking to his mother behind his back? Only she made that gesture.

"But how do you know? I mean you seem pretty goddamned confused two years ago and then all over again! Jesus!"

"Well Ray, I'm not an expert on matters of the heart."

"No shit." Ray stared hard at his friend and inwardly groaned.

That 'wide-eye Mountie look' again. Damn it. He killed the engine. He felt stupid. He opened his door and silently slipped out of his car into the cold rain, his left shoulder sorely throbbing.

Fraser sat there stunned for a few moments, unable to move, and he hurriedly got out before Ray changed his mind.

The Mountie ran into the apartment to catch up with his partner. He found Ray standing still, staring down at that dark tragic spot at the bottom of the staircase. There were still some spots of blood on the wall, his blood.

"Ray?" Fraser winced. In his efforts, and then his shock of actually getting Ray to come with him, he had totally forgotten about the ghastly incident on the staircase and the effect it would have on Ray seeing it now. He cursed himself for his selfishness and thoughtlessness.

His thin partner now turned to him, a shade or two paler. "I'm glad we both landed on our heads."

"Um, yes Ray."

Ray weakly laughed and climbed those endless dangerous steps and Fraser followed him, sadly watching the narrow slim back covered in the dark overcoat. And both men were heading down the hallway with Fraser keeping himself half a step back and more than an arm's length away, very much the way a prisoner walks next to a guard, together but apart

Swinging the door open, a furry white creature bounced up to greet them.

"Hey, furbag!" Ray hadn't seen Dief for quite some time and didn't mind the paws all over his suit. He even ventured to give the wolf a few hearty pats on his furry white head.

"Ray, can I take your coat?"

Ray gave his partner a cautious glance, and then began to carefully slip off his coat. "Um, okay Fraser."

The Mountie gingerly hung the fine coat on a peg by the door, and removed his own dark uniform coat. Automatically, he placed his stetson on the hat block.

He looked over to his friend and found Ray ruefully staring at him. Ray suddenly looked down to the floor a little startled, even nervous.

"Ray? Are you all right?"

The detective shrugged and looked up. "Yeah. You wanted to talk?"

"Yes, Ray. I do."

"Well, Fraser. Where do you want to start?"

"Um, I don't know." He looked up at the detective helplessly. Obviously he didn't realize he would actually get Ray up into his apartment, let alone have the man talk to him ever again, and so he was totally unprepared. He had to think of something before it all slipped away, and Ray would be out of his life for good. Fraser was lucky enough to get his second chance, and he was now all tongue-tied.

Say something, say anything! Where to begin?

"Well Fraser?"

Ray stared at him impatiently. Why the hell did he bring me up here, then? Why? To torture me some more? He couldn't take it. He felt like he was drowning on dry land, drowning in the Mountie's indecision.

Ray was starting to get really annoyed.

"That's really great, Fraser. Here, I'll make some of that chamomile-seaweed rose-petal tea crap you like so much, okay? And you think really hard now what you want to talk about. The ball is now in your court."

"Okay, Ray." Fraser was at a loss. He was losing Ray and he couldn't do a thing about it. He finally had his friend in his apartment and he couldn't think of one thing to say to save himself. He was going to lose Ray, and it was like losing his life. He was dying.

How is it that he can find one fugitive in a vast blinding snowstorm, but couldn't find his best friend in his own small apartment?

Ray stepped into the small kitchen and flicked on the gas stove. He placed a full kettle of water over the hissing flame and pulled out two mugs from the cupboard.

Damn! Benny had only two mugs, and two plates, and two bowels, and hell, he even had two axes; he had two of goddamned everything. What was the matter with him?

Two of everything only out of necessity, and no more than that. Two of everything obviously meant everything for two people, as if Fraser had anticipated that there would always be that one extra person. Oh God.

He had anticipated Ray. He was crying for Ray.

Ray jumped when he heard Fraser crying in the next room, and hurrying out he found the Mountie on his hands and knees weeping so furiously it seemed he would vomit. In fact, he did begin to retch and Ray knelt, his thin arms around Fraser's chest and he held him close.

Strange feeling having Fraser in his arms like this, to have a large man in his arms this way: like a child, a child beaten and distraught.

"Benny? It's okay, Benny. All right? It's okay."

Fraser's body moved in Ray's arms so fiercely with his retching it was like a convulsion, and Ray's heart was now in a gallop of fear enough to bring a sweat to his smooth forehead. Oh God, what did I do?

"It's all right, Benny." Ray helplessly holding him tight as his friend wept and shook. "I love you, Benny."

Like dying shock waves the convulsing and the weeping passed, all now settling into a profound silence, a deep somnolent calm almost like a trance state. And both men started as a loud scream penetrated the apartment; the kettle was now boiling over on the gas stove.

"Damn." Ray relinquished his hold very, very slowly, as if he were releasing Fraser into deep waters just long enough to run into the kitchen and yank the whistling kettle off the flame.

Then back into the next room again stepping cautiously to a prone figure of Fraser curled up on the floor, crumpled in his red tunic and boots. Ray gently dropped to his knees besides the lying body, gently caressing the dark head and then the wide shoulders.

"Ray."

"Shhhh."

Ray curled himself up behind his friend, spooning his body firmly against Fraser's back and protectively wrapped his leg about the Mountie's waist. He continued stroking the silky hair and he kissed the soft nape of that white neck, whispering tenderly to his lover... love you... love you... love you... love...

Ray suddenly snapped his eyes open, disoriented to find himself in Fraser's apartment, and then he remembered that he wanted to be here. He must have fallen asleep, and the Mountie was still softly napping within his thin arms and legs.

His body and bones ached from lying curled up on the hard floor, and he wisely decided that he and Benny should really be in bed.

Ray lifted his head and was mildly shocked to see Dief occupying the small bed, the white wolf now regarding him with his usual indifference. Dief then rested his head on his paws and closed his amber eyes to continue his comfortable slumber.

He scowled at the sleepy wolf. "Why you little furry son-of-a-bitch."

"What did you call me, Ray?" The Mountie lifted and turned his head, his ice-blue gaze blinkless.

"I was having a conversation with your wolf. He's napping on your bed, Fraser."

"Hmm. The city is making him soft."

"He's a big pussy, Benny."

"Oh."

Fraser stared at his friend for an odd moment, and awkwardly made a move to extricate himself from Ray's arms, but he simply gave up and slumped back down to the floor. Too exhausted to care now that he wanted to stay in Ray's arms and what Ray would think of that.

Ray was a little dazed from that frightening scene of Fraser's emotional outburst. Being a cop, he had always thought he knew what to do in an emergency, and then an emergency occurred for which he had no remedy. Fraser was conditioned all his life not to feel anything, and not to exhibit any feelings. What can remedy that?

A whole lifetime of sensory deprivation.

The only remedy for that was vigilance; keeping vigil over his friend has he let out his hurt and pain and outrage. What else could he do? Ray wanted to be ready if it ever happened again, and he promised himself to never be the cause of it.

My best friend.

"Ray?"

"Yeah?"

Fraser's face was haggard and wet with tears, the pale face half-translucent and ashen, and his dark hair now darker against the white skin. He was drained of color. He needed Ray.

"Um, will you stay?"

Grinning, Ray leaned over and kissed the dark soft hair, his gold crucifix a swinging pendulum in front Fraser's face and Ray now regarded him with woeful tenderness.

"Come with me, Benny. You look like total shit."

"Thank you kindly, Ray."

Sadly shaking his head he pulled the rumpled Mountie to his feet and slowly walked him into the kitchen; he gently sat him down in a small chair. Fraser was mournfully staring at him.

Ray went to the sink, and turning on the faucet he blindly grabbed a dishtowel imprinted with windmills and daisies and ducks and shit. Hell, it was the best he could do.

He silently walked over to Fraser and with the damp towel he began to wipe Fraser's face, his pale slack cheeks and pink mouth, and the eyes unmoving behind the tender lids. Ray felt his heart drop hard and he gave up the fight.

Nothing was important now but to give in, to give to the onrush of Benny's love. He simply loved him.

Clean now, Ray bent down to kiss the pale upturned face, soft little kisses all over the skin and he wrapped his arms around the Mountie's neck.

The detective smiled when he noticed his partner's pink mouth opening up and wanting like a helpless yearling. Ray bent down and offered his own mouth, his tongue smoothly sliding inside the wet heat, feeding him. Fraser moaned, his hands reaching out and touching.

Large pale hands glided up to Ray's shoulders and slipped off the dark suit jacket, it now falling noiselessly to the floor with the dishtowel. Fraser caressed the chest through the silk shirt, warm and satiny and smooth under his fingers.

The shirt was a nice effect, but he wanted to touch bare skin.

Fraser broke their kiss and glanced up with that silent plea and he felt his heart soar when Ray lovingly smiled his approval, wanting him just as much.

He tried his best to remove his friend's silk tie, but Ray finally had to take over to undo the knot after Fraser nearly strangled him in the process. He had managed better with the buttons of the silk shirt, although a little too slowly for Ray's taste.

Ray swiftly pulled his shirt open and off his body.

Graceful hands now held on to the Mountie's shoulders for balance as the Italian kicked off his leather shoes and Fraser, with his fingers hooked inside Ray's waistband, leaned forward and gently pressed his face into Ray's groin, deeply breathing him in.

Ray's green eyes went wide. "Oh my God."

Fraser looked up, beaming, and he slowly unbuttoned the slacks; they fell suddenly and effortlessly down the very narrow hips. He was now staring at the black briefs, already noticing Ray's excitement, along with the pleasant smell of his cologne and his labored breathing.

"It's okay Benny, please take them down. This time I have my cell phone turned off."

Fraser sat bonelessly in the chair, and with timid hands he reached up and delicately pulled down the briefs. The elegant grip on his broad shoulders tightened fiercely as Ray was finally undressed and exposed.

"Step back, Ray. Please. I want to look at you."

Ray stood before him naked, his feet shifting nervously in a pool of his fine garments and silk, almost like he was walking on water.

His body in the bright-harsh winter light of the window was tawny as an icon, the sleek bronze now a light honey, long and thin and leanly muscled, the belly nearly concave, and the ribs evident as fine carving.

Ray's legs were long and strong, like those of a runner, and the shoulders wider than they had seemed when concealed under suit and overcoat.

As for Ray's cock, Fraser averted his eyes, not willing to really look at it yet; afraid he may pass out from the sight, or die. Oh yes, he'll definitely die.

Fraser quickly wrapped his arms around the bare slim waist, and pulled the thin body towards him. Ray was gazing down upon his friend, his hazel eyes soft and his slender hands combing through silky dark hair.

"Ray." Fraser kissed and mouthed his belly, the firm cavity of his navel, and a tongue now dipping into his belly button, tasting all of him.

The Italian shuddered under the wet onslaught; his head now bent back and closing his eyes.

"Benny, Bennylove. Oh God, yes. Love you."

Emboldened by those tender words, Fraser tightened his hold of Ray's waist within his arms and he lifted himself up from the small kitchen chair, carrying Ray up with him in a firm bear hug.

"Fraser!"

Ray, now disconcerted, looked down upon Fraser with wide green eyes, his hands tightly clutching Fraser's shoulders and his feet dangling in mid air. Only a man like Ray was capable of looking aroused, amused, angry, and annoyed all at the same time.

The Mountie simply looked up at his friend smiling, holding him firmly. "God, Ray, you're so beautiful." He pressed his face against the flat stomach, and nuzzled the smooth olive skin. "So beautiful."

"Ah jeez, Benny."

Ray was now blushing.

This was getting a little weird, in a weird sort of sexy way. He felt like a first prize trophy being held up in the air like this. His erection was now squashed against Fraser's chest and he could feel the strong heartbeats of his partner through his cock, the pounding in his cock now matching the Mountie heart.

Holy shit!

Benny had better do something about this. He had better!

"Oh God, Benny! Don't just stand there! Please!" Ray's plea was a mixture of anguish and exasperation.

Fraser looked up again; his face now flushed red. "What do you want from me, Ray?"

"I want you to fuck me. Hurry!"

Fraser swiftly carried the detective to his small bed, and not without stumbling over Dief's water dish. Oh dear. He barely made it to the bed in one piece, and Ray was already thrusting hard against his chest. He felt like laughing.

He placed his thin partner gingerly down on the bed and immediately proceeded to shed his uniform, frantically clawing at his belt and lanyard. He had trouble removing his thick boots, especially today of all days!

Ray was staring up at him with huge hazel eyes, writhing and panting on the bed as if he already started without Fraser. Damn these boots!

Ray was now sobbing, his hands reaching up. "Oh God! Hurry!"

"Patience, Ray. Have patience, love."

Fraser tore off the rest of his uniform, a button or two popping into the air from the tunic. He'll sew them back on later. Who cares?

Now stripped down, Fraser urgently climbed into bed, clumsily stumbling over the length of his lover's sinuous body while trying to decide what he wanted to do to Ray.

Oh God, so many choices. There was a heavenly choice between Ray's legs.

He spread Ray's thighs with a tender ruthlessness. Ray's length was hard and bare and beautifully curved, a delicate color of burgundy against honey colored thighs.

The Mountie kneeled in prayer between the slender legs, his face serious as a priest. He reverently lowered his head.

First, a tentative lick to the cockhead and Fraser watched fascinated as the bare tip flushed crimson red, a sign of Ray's blood, his life, rushing up his cock to meet Fraser's lips and mouth; Ray's very own gift to him.

Ray let out a soft wail, and the core of his body was in an instant moment melted. Hard waves of ecstasy washed through and through him, waves that poured in like an ocean.

Fraser gently probed the baby small slit of that cockhead with his tongue and he stared mesmerized as the slit flared up and gently squeezed out a glimmering drop of pre-cum; all this brought on by his very own touch. The angel touch of his tongue.

Suddenly Fraser's head began to pound along with the ringing in his ears, and the apartment seemed to suddenly shift to the left; it was Ray's distant cry through the haze that finally brought him back down to earth.

Oh God! For a moment was he about to faint? He better not faint, Ray would strangle him! Fraser took a deep breath and continued his delicate exploration of his lank lover.

The Mountie suddenly frowned.

Ray's cock seemed so exposed and so unprotected, so much unlike Fraser's. How could they just cut him up like that? How on earth did infant Ray endure it? God, did it hurt? Fraser wanted to cover Ray up with his mouth and insulate him from the knife blade-wielding world.

And he did. He swallowed him whole.

"Benny!"

A slow rhythm now began like breathing. Fraser's tongue slowly described the ridges and valleys and hillsides of Ray's cock, his balls, and then his ass.

Ray felt the dagger dart of that tongue at his anus, like a hot flame lapping at his core.

"BENNY!!! Oh God, what you do to me!"

Fraser was totally lost in his lover, the textures and the tastes of Ray's flesh, and the exquisite torture of what he did to Ray with his mouth, tongue, and fingers. He tasted the length of his Italian, smooth-skinned and burning, like swollen fruit in the sun.

With his slim hips clamped firmly down to the bed by Fraser's large hands, Ray could only resort to wildly thrashing his own head from side to side on the pillow in order to relieve some of that precious building pressure. He wanted to thrust so badly into his lover's mouth, but the Mountie and his hands were too strong for him, and Fraser just wouldn't allow it.

Ray clung to the sheets hard, clawing, almost pulling them off the small mattress.

"Benny!!! Please now! Oh God! Please!"

Fraser ignored the loud pleas coming from his partner; he had a job to do.

Starting at the base, there was a gentle scrape of teeth up along the cock to the naked sensitive tip, and Fraser knew what to do next. A light swirling of a tongue around that tip, then another sweet dive down to the base of that cock... and then slowly way up again.

And yet again and again, just to be consistent.

Fraser then decided to test the physical limits of his pleasuring and he engulfed Ray's burning shaft entirely. That sweet naked tip was now down his throat, and he swallowed hard on it.

Way hard.

"BENNY!" Ray screeched.

Ray quickly sat up, his legs wide apart and bent and his hands clenching the sheets, screaming and screaming; his eyes were now squeezed shut and he bared his teeth.

It looked as if Ray was giving birth, and probably was, in his own way.

He had his own birth.

Ray felt carried up and flung outward. He heard himself cry aloud again, as if he had left his very own body, expelled forcefully by the spasms that shook it.

He finally collapsed back onto the bed with a frail whimper, sprawled out now, shuddering and blinking and dazed as if he was a victim of a hit-and-run.

Fraser was resting his head on Ray's flat stomach, panting hard; the muscles in his jaw and neck were aching with fatigue and his mouth was salty-sweet. He shakily raised his head, and then sat up, swaying, and he was gazing down upon the spent Italian. Ray was drenched with sweat and satiation; his lean muscles now slick and gorgeous.

Now sitting Indian style between Ray's spread legs; Fraser was quietly watching him and stroking him, stroking his ribs, his stomach, and his thighs.

Ray watched him too, not wanting to speak, not just yet. He couldn't. Ray continued his greenish stare of fluorescence up at his lover.

The movements of Fraser's hands were soothing on his lean body, and Ray calmed under it; it was as if he had let go of a great burden.

"Ray?"

Fraser was still amazed at the ferocity of Ray's orgasm and the wake of its aftermath.

"I waited for you." Ray answered that unspoken question.

"I waited, and I waited, and...I'm glad that I did." Ray spoke weakly; he was completely drained and vacant. He was empty. Fraser had scoured him out.

"Ray, I'm so sorry."

"Damn, Fraser. Stop being sorry. Jeez. Bad things happen, okay? God, bad things happen all the time. But that makes the good things seem better."

Ray closed his eyes, trying to regain some of his rational thought. Damn. Forget it.

"Ray?"

"What I'm trying to say Benny, is that in order to really experience great highs, you also have to experience great lows. Okay?"

"That is very eloquent, Ray." The Mountie was now beaming at Ray's words. "That's was very... um... profound."

"I think I got it from watching the ESPN channel."

"Huh?"

"Oh, never mind, Benny." Ray sighed; another joke now lost on the Mountie.

Ray sat up with some effort, and he scooted himself forward to sit up on Fraser's lap. He firmly straddled Fraser's hips with his long legs, and snaked his arms around that pale strong neck. He placed gentle kisses on the Mountie's perfect face, on his forehead, cheeks, eyelids, nose, and those soft lips. He could do this all day.

He now breathed in the dark curly hair, inhaling it.

"Oh God, Benny, um, how is it that your skin is so soft?" Ray asked shyly, burying his face in the dark hair, and that so soft too.

"I'm not sure Ray. I wasn't aware of my skin being soft. Maybe it's the soap I use..."

"No way! That shitty soap?" Ray lifted his head to look at him.

"You didn't seem to mind using it, Ray..."

"Benny! I was a desperate and dirty man, and, God, I would've used a wire scrub brush and Lysol."

"Now that's just plain silly, Ray."

Ray slowly shook his head. "Damn, it's like talking to a six-year old. Maybe we should go out and play on the monkey-bars after school, Benny." Ray joked and ruffled his partner's dark pelt.

"I rather play in bed, Ray." Fraser now took Ray's earlobe into his mouth and suckled that tender piece of flesh, trying to draw out the sweet flavors of Ray.

"Benny. Oh yes, Bennylove. God." Ray responded instantly, squeezing his slender legs a little more tightly around Fraser's waist, his palms now pressed hard against that broad pale back. They began to gently rock together, swaying together, Fraser's erection now pressed firmly up against Ray's balls.

The Mountie's mouth carefully traced the sweet curve of Ray's long neck down to his smooth shoulder, the scar there from the bullet a dainty lavender against the olive hue, and then to the delicate bird-like collarbone.

Fraser eyed the prominent Adam's apple of his lover's neck now bent back in sweet offering; the temptation of that apple was just too much for him, and Ray now being the serpent.

Carnally, Fraser placed his mouth over it, totally covering it up, and feeling that firm mound fitting so perfectly inside his mouth as he knew it would. He sucked on it hungrily, closing his eyes and cupping the smooth peach fuzz head with both of his hands.

Ray softly cried out from the shock of being feasted upon, of being devoured like this by his lover. He never experienced anything like this in his life: being consumed alive.

Was his sweet Benny a vampire?

Fraser felt a high burning bliss when that solid Adam's apple vibrated and bobbed inside his mouth as Ray groaned and swallowed. Startlingly, Fraser thought he would come right at this moment.

The detective felt the telltale tremors in his friend's body, and knew all too well the urgency as his friend moved under his thighs.

Too soon. Too soon. Not yet.

Ray suddenly pulled and pushed himself away; Fraser's mouth empty now of his fruit.

"Ray?"

Ray climbed out of his lap, disentangling himself from his partner and Fraser now protested.

"No, Ray. Don't. Please."

"Benny, it's okay. I want you to lie down. Lie down on your back."

Ray softly placed a flat palm against the Mountie's pale chest, and gently pushed him down to the mattress.

"Lie down."

Ray slithered to one side of the bed, and he moved through the gilded air, angling his dark limber body down on top of Fraser's own pale one.

Supporting himself on his elbows, Ray bent his head down and put his mouth smoothly against that of his lover's. His tongue wetly dipped in and out and in and out of Fraser's mouth, just like penetration itself.

Ray's mouth left his, and Fraser turned after it, chasing it, wanted more of it, and he now felt that satin mouth tracing the line of his jaw, and then the gentle curve of his ear.

Soft kisses were then placed on his face and neck like warm raindrops. Fraser felt an intimate comfort in his soul from those kisses.

Ray lifted himself up slightly on his elbows, and slowly grinded his narrow hips against the Mountie... and a harp string was suddenly plucked in Fraser's cock.

Ray moved down him, the hard smooth flesh of his spare body, the velvet rasp of his bare penis as it rubbed against Fraser's belly, his inner thighs, and his erect uncut shaft.

Like two twigs being rubbed together to start a fire, Fraser cupped his lover's small buttocks hard and pressed Ray down frantically trying to increase the friction to ignite the spark.

Fraser suddenly experienced that splendid pull of his blood down through his arteries straight to his cockhead, like electric threads of silk.

The music much fiercer now, a glissandi of fires in his cock.

"Ray! Oh God! My Ray! Ray!"

The detective pushed harder, riding the white body with fierce stabbing motions, his hips narrow like a knife and hard and thrusting, and his slender bronze legs now intertwined with strong pale ones.

Fraser groaned and threshed on the small bed in an anguish of blinding pleasure, bright redness behind his eyes and his ears singing with that sharp music from his groin. His head snapped back at a painful angle, his body curled and was covered everywhere with sweat, the sweat darkening his hair

"Ray! Ray, go faster!"

"Not yet."

Ray suddenly stopped, looking down at the Mountie panting painfully hard and Ray held him in waiting, waiting between and heaven and earth, between life and death.

"Benny... this is me fucking you. Because I love you, do you understand? I love you."

"Yes. Please Ray, please. Ray!"

"We share everything. You will never leave me out, never again."

"Ray, I promise! I need you! Ray! Oh God!"

"Good boy."

When Ray moved again, the pain of waiting flared into a heated glorious friction.

Again Fraser pressed himself up to meet it, Ray's whirlwind onslaught, and he was wounded by the pleasure of it, and he rose again to it. He worked and leapt to meet Ray's pounding blows, fucking him back as hard as he can.

Gripping the sheets for leverage, Ray hammered himself into the broad pale body, and he felt liquid electricity run down his spine straight to his cock and wetly shooting out.

"Oh God Benny! I'm coming! Here I come! BENNY!"

Upon hearing his friend's astonished outcry, Fraser now felt himself unravel from his own flesh, obliterated and vanquished in an agony of ascent.

He finally reached the top.

"RAY! RAY! RAY!"

Fraser screamed and was flung up into his orgasm; he lifted his body off the bed with only his head and heels now making contact, taking Ray's featherweight body along for the ride.

Ray choked and cried into the hollow Fraser's neck, and he grasped the smooth muscular body lifting up his; Ray was clinging hard to him on the brink of chaos, Fraser now his only anchor in the rushing of the storm.

A hot storm of semen between them.

Both men landed on the bed, a fiery meteor plunging to earth and they were still burning and flaming.

"Ray, I love you."

"Hmm, I know."

"Oh God, Ray..."

"Sleep, Bennylove. Go to sleep now so I can fuck you later. Okay?"

"Oh? Okay."

The apartment fell into that comfortable silence so familiar between the two friends and now lovers once again. Silences like the spaces between one heartbeat and another, between one breath and another. Everything else was forgotten.

Silence; except for the steady slow breathing of the Mountie and the Chicago detective, and the soft pitter-patter of lupine paws.

"Damn, he's doing it again," Ray spoke weakly. His voice was now faint with happy exhaustion.

"Ray?"

"Your weird wolf. The furbag voyeur. He's looking at us again."

"Oh?" Fraser was touching Ray even now, languidly caressing his neck, his back, his ass, tenderly smoothing out his body.

"Benny, make him go away," Ray groaned, and he buried his face into Fraser's neck to avoid the wolf's uncanny glare.

"Go away, Diefenbaker. Please"

The wolf cocked his head to one side, staring at his pale pack mate now speaking to him.

* Whine *

"I said go away, Diefenbaker. Please go into the kitchen." Fraser mouthed out the words very slowly and carefully to his deaf lip-reading wolf.

The spurned wolf glared at him. * Why does my pack mate always do that strange thing with his mouth? *

* I may be deaf, but I'm not stupid. *

The leaner wolf of the pack with the sharp green eyes lifted his head and he spoke, "Get your sorry perverted ass into the kitchen, furface!"

* Oh! Okay! Anything you say, pack mate. *

Dief obediently turned and sauntered away into the small kitchen.

Well, after all, his leaner pack mate did provide the sweeter treats, especially when the pale pack mate wasn't watching.

* I may be deaf, but I'm not stupid. *

--The End--

Endnote: If you had made it this far through all three parts of my story, I thank you for taking the time.

When editing the three parts of my story, I realized I have mentioned Ray's Adam apple in all three parts! I didn't realize how attractive it was. I have read some other slash describing his eyes, his neck, his nose, his hands, his legs, his ass, his shaven head, his other head, but I don't remember any detailed descriptions of his Adam's apple. Damn, it's so big and lovely. Why couldn't there be just a episode of Due South where Ray just sat there and ate a pasta meal all day so I can just watch that Adam's apple just go up and down and...

Oh yeah, I think the man has the most beautiful collarbone too! (Pilot episode, after Ray gets blown up in Chinatown and he's lying in the hospital bed shirtless with a neck brace. Oh, you know!)