Takes place somewhere between MotB and Easy Money, so RayK. No spoilers. Very mild possible slash implication - in other words I haven't decided yet ...

The boys belong to Alliance. I just borrowed them for a bit. They're back now. (Sigh.)

No beta readers - so no one to blame but myself.

"Frase?" The soft voice jolted Fraser out of his doze.

"Ray?" The relief he felt was clear in his voice. His partner was leaning in his doorway looking somewhat the worse for wear. The Mountie surreptitiously glanced at his clock. 2:30 a.m.

"Didn't mean to wake you. Yer light was on." Ray said quietly.

"I was hoping you'd come by." Fraser stood up and motioned Ray to enter the room. The Chicago detective remained leaning against the jamb.

"Why?" The tone of voice was guarded.

"Stella called me." Ray flinched, then slid to the floor, his face in his hands. Fraser was beside him immediately. "Ray, it's okay," he said soothingly.

"It's not okay. It will never be okay." The desolation in the blond's voice was complete and frightening.

"Ray, she didn't mean it."

"Sure she didn't. That's why she said it." Ray lifted his head. His eyes were full of tears. "I don't think I can take this any more, ya know?" His head dropped back down again. "I am so sick of being alone. Every day I get up alone. Every night I go home, alone. It's this constant reminder that I failed at my marriage. When I took this gig, I thought it'd be good. I could tell myself that the reason I didn't have any friends, was 'cause I was undercover, not 'cause they were all Stella's friends."

"Ray, I'm your friend."

"No, you're Vecchio's friend. I just get to, like, borrow you for awhile. When he comes back, it's done."

"Ray, that is simply not true," Fraser protested.

"Really." Ray looked up. "Look me in the eye. Look me in the eye and tell me that nothing changes when Vecchio comes back."

"I can't tell you that," Fraser protested.

"Right. You can't." Ray heaved himself to his feet. "Look, sorry I woke you. I gotta get going."

"Where are you going Ray?"

"I don't know. What difference does it make?" He stumbled and then started down the hallway. Fraser reached out and grabbed Ray by the arm, pulling him back into the room.

"It makes every difference." Still holding Ray by the arm, Fraser put his thumb up to his eyebrow, thinking how to best phrase what he wanted to say. "Ray," he began. Kowalski looked mulish. "Ray, I can't promise that nothing will change, because I have no idea what will happen when Ray ... Vecchio ... comes back. I can promise, however, that one thing won't change. You will still be my friend. You will always be my friend." He looked into his partner's eyes.

"Can I go now?" the voice was unconvinced.

"Well, no. I don't think that would be wise. You're not in any shape to be out wandering around alone."

"I'm fine."

"No, Ray. You are not fine. You are depressed and inebriated. Not the of best all combinations." The wolf barked in agreement.

"So, you're not going to let me leave?"

"No."

"'Cause it would be irresponsible?"

"Yes ... and ..."

"And?"

"Because if I let anything happen to you, I wouldn't be able to live with it." The words came out of their own volition. Ray looked startled. "You mean that?" he whispered. Fraser leaned his forehead against his partner's. "Yes, I mean it," he said firmly. "What do I have to do to convince you of that?" There was no answer.

"That's not a rhetorical question, Ray. How can I convince you? What will it take for you to believe me?"

Ray pulled back and looked at his partner, confusion and doubt strong in his eyes. "Why?" he finally asked. "Why do you care? I'm nobody special. Just a skinny Chicago flatfoot, who yells at you, calls you a freak and hits you."

"I hit you back, if you recall."

"Only 'cause I made you."

"Well, yes, in a manner of speaking."

"What do you mean in a manner of speaking? I made you hit me!"

"Well, you didn't really make me Ray. It's not like you forced my hand to hit your mouth. I have to admit to a certain sense of satisfaction in hitting you back. I'm ashamed about it, but that is the truth." Ray just stared at his partner.

"Yer not answering my question," he finally said. "Why? Why would you even want to care? I suck. I have sucked my whole life. Geez, my parents left town to get away from me; my ex-wife told me today that ... that she wished she'd ... never known me ..." His voice broke on the last and the tears finally began to run down his face..

"Ray, she didn't mean it." Fraser wrapped his arms around his partner, pulling him into a hug. "That's why she called me."

"She said it. She meant it. Remember, I'm an expert on the Stella," Ray spit the words out. He began shaking as the tears turned to wracking sobs. Fraser held him tighter. "Ray, listen. She'd had a really bad day. She lost a case today and the victim went home and committed suicide. You just happened to come along at the wrong time. She looked for you to apologize and when she couldn't find you, called me, hoping you'd come here. Ray, listen to me. Stella cares about you. I care about you." He cradled his partner, easing them to the ground as Ray continued to cry. Softly rocking him back and forth, Fraser held the blond close to him, making gentling noises against his hair. "You're a good police officer, a caring person and a good man, Ray," he whispered. "There are so many reasons to care about you. Why can't you believe me?" He continued to hold his partner as the anguish poured out of him. Slowly, the sobs subsided into gasps and hiccups. Fraser kept holding Ray, kept making soothing noises, kept reassuring him with his hands. Eventually, Ray had stopped crying and just lay in Fraser's arms, exhausted. "I think you'd better stay here tonight," Fraser finally suggested. Ray nodded wearily. The Mountie helped his partner remove his jacket, shoes and jeans and then guided him to the cot. Laying him down, he pulled the covers up over him. "Where you sleepin'?" Ray asked suddenly.

"On the floor, of course."

"That's not right." Ray sat up.

"Ray, go to sleep. I bed down on the floor all the time."

"I didn't come to steal your bed. I get the floor or I leave." Fraser sighed and yielded to the inevitable. They traded places. Ray settling onto the floor, gingerly. Fraser turned off the light and lay down on his cot, watching his partner. Ray lay with his eyes closed. He shivered. And then again. Fraser slid down onto the floor next to him, wrapping his blanket over both of them, pulling his partner close. Ray started. "Go to sleep Ray. It'll be all right." Ray turned so that his head was laying on Fraser's chest. "Sounds good," he whispered.

"What?"

"Your heart." Fraser placed his hand on Ray's head, gently stroking his hair. Ray slowly relaxed, his breathing deepening and eventually turning into a very soft snore. Fraser continued stroking his hair. Concentrating on creating a safe space for his partner, he eventually drifted off to sleep himself.

Ray woke early in the morning. It took him a minute to remember where he was. He tensed. Fraser remained still. Ray slowly relaxed again. He hadn't known what he was looking for when he stumbled into the consulate the previous evening. He'd just known how badly he hurt, and the only person he could think to talk to was Fraser. The Mountie had been sympathetic when Ray had first told him of his feelings from his ex-wife, unlike most of Ray's co-workers, who had told him to "get over it and move on." So in the depths of his pain, the thought of Fraser had seemed like a lifeline. This was the last place he expected to end up though. Cradled in his partner's arms and as content and secure as he had been in the last year. Part of him felt he should get up right away, save them both the embarrassment. The other part of him wanted to remain curled up in Fraser's arms forever. He felt safe, protected and cared for. He hadn't felt that in so long, he'd almost forgotten what it was like. Knowing that once Fraser woke, the moment and the feeling would be broken, Ray decided to enjoy it for the brief fleeting pleasure that it was. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, soothed by the sound of the strong heartbeat under his ear. Fraser continued to breathe evenly. He'd been aware the second that Ray opened his eyes and had remained still in the hope that his partner would go back to sleep. It was early yet; Ray needed the sleep, he told himself. And you aren't ready to let go of him, an inner voice spoke up truthfully. It had been a long time since Fraser had held another person close. Touch was important. Touch between humans absolutely vital. And touching this particular human brought a sense of comfort he was loathe to lose. He wasn't sure why this was so. He'd never had feelings like this for Vecchio, who'd been as close to him as anyone ever had. There was something about Kowalski, about the vulnerability in his eyes, that just pulled at Fraser. He wasn't entirely certain what these feelings meant or what if anything he could or should do about them. But for now, holding his partner; comforting him, he felt peace. And that would be sufficient. For the moment.

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