Rating: PG. There's nothing to rate here. Move along.

Category: Anti-Fixit

Disclaimer (or not): "And while some TV and film producers have threatened legal action against slash authors, [Paul] Gross pointed out that a fan's fantasies are not an area into which his copyright extends. 'I suppose the character is public ground,' he said. 'If you're willing to bring it into people's houses every week, the [fans] are entitled to certain liberties, wherever their imagination is carried by those characters.'"

(from an interview in 'Toronto Globe & Mail', August 8, 1998)

Warnings: I'm a sucker for RayK. 3rd season rulez!

Notes: This is a missing scene set during the episode 'Call of the Wild, part 2' -- or, more precisely, between the scenes in which Fraser says his good-byes to Inspector Thatcher and the next morning, when they go after Muldoon. I used the version in which Fraser actually kisses the Ice Queen, since (to me) it felt like that from the first time I saw the ep. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. ;)

Oh, and if you think you know the title, you've been watching too much 'Babylon 5'. <g>

Comments are highly appreciated, in any form.

A Voice In the Wilderness

by Sammy

The sky was dark, but clear, no signs of more snow, thank God. Ray Kowalski slowly turned away from the fire and tilted his head back to stare at the clusters of too many stars above him, sparkling like diamonds spilled madly onto velvet of the deepest black he had ever seen.

Crisp wind hit his face, making his skin tingle and his lips go numb. Ray closed his eyes and stood like that for a few moments, hands clenching into fists unconsciously, swaying slightly on his feet as if torn between the chilled air, creeping into his bones even through thick layers of clothes, and the warmth, radiating from the fire and slowly spreading across his back.

As Ray stood like that in the night, a howl rose behind him, a lone voice yelling disapproval at the moon above them. Soon the other dogs fell in and answered the call, and eventually a human throat joined the ghostly chorus, too. It was such an untamed, uncivilized sound that it send a shiver down Ray's spine, and it made him open his eyes wide, made him blink.

And even Ray Kowalski, who now was a lot more snowshoe-fit than he had been two mere days ago, had to admit that it was an unearthly beautiful night, considering that he was still cold and freezing his butt off and that his heart was about to break.

//... but no matter how far apart they were... they always knew that they were partners...//

Ray took a shuddering breath as Fraser's words echoed in his mind, and before he could help it, his eyes traveled across the white, white snow, until his gaze came to rest on the two figures standing too close, faces touching, their breath forming clouds of steam that quickly withered away in the coldness of the night. And the sight made Ray's heart clench a bit more.

//... they always knew...//

"Right you are, Fraser." he whispered, and the wind tore the quiet words from his mouth and hurled them away and into the night. "Right you are."

The fire beside him hissed and crackled angrily as someone put more wood on, and Ray flinched when the flames spit fiery embers at him, tinting the snow in a dozen flickering shades of orange and red.

He wanted to turn, wanted to look away almost desperately, but in the end he couldn't help it and watched the Ice Queen slowly step back and away from his partner, careful to keep her head down, careful not to meet the Mountie's eyes. He watched her wrap her arms around herself as if she were cold, and the way her breath shaped white gusts of fog into the night, she probably was, and that thought made a wry smile tug at the corners of Ray's mouth. The nickname he had given her had never seemed more appropriate.

Snow crunched beneath a pair of heavy boots, and he turned his head at the sound, meeting Fraser's eyes just as the Mountie's cheeks flushed with heat at the realization that his partner had been watching him - watching *them*.

"Ah..." Fraser said, trying to explain, then hesitated and cleared his throat as he grasped for the right words, the right reason. Raising a hand to nervously rub the spot just above his left brow, words failing him, like they usually did when it came to matters of the heart.

And Ray merely blinked, safe because he knew that his own face was as blank as the untouched snow just beyond the trees. It had to be, had to be, because the slightest scratch would make him bleed, and he couldn't take that, not tonight, not in the middle of all this... wilderness. So he stared at Fraser and held his partner's gaze and waited for him to speak while the cold seeped through him as if it came from the inside out.

"That..." Fraser paused again, but this time he didn't look away, didn't evade the questioning eyes, just tilted his head to the side with a slight frown drawing his brows together and his mouth forming a small and silent 'o'. A gesture Ray had seen so many times when Fraser was at a loss for words, for emotions, and it still looked to him as though he were about to ask a question that began with 'would you'... and, hell - 'yes' was the only possible answer all of a sudden. Yes to whatever question began with those two words.

Ray took a deep breath at the unexpected thought, sucking the icy night air into his lungs, and just then Fraser did the trick of finally finding the words he had been searching for. "It was a good-bye."

And Ray could only nod, slowly, cautiously, because that was the scratch he had been waiting for, and now he lowered his eyes, still nodding, staring at the snow at his feet, looking for scarlet tainting the bright white while Fraser went on, talking about borrowed tents and blankets and getting sleep.

And Ray nodded and really tried to listen as he turned to walk beside Fraser, but in truth the only thing that kept circling in his head was the question if a shattered soul would leave any tracks in the snow.

* * * * *

It should have been warmer inside the tent, with Fraser taking up more than his share of space and half a dozen blankets split between them, but for some strange reason it wasn't, and so Ray kept twisting and turning while he tried to go beyond being wide awake. He drew the blankets tighter around his body, only to kick them off again a moment later as he went for another round of restless tossing. It was still cold, too cold, and this time he was not exhausted enough to fall asleep anyway.

"Ray, go to sleep." The sigh was as soft as it was startlingly unexpected, and he jumped, clenching his hand into the blanket draped around his shoulders. "We need the rest."

"I'm trying, I'm trying..." he murmured back, pressing the words through gritted teeth, but although he kept his voice down, his reply still came out as a harsh rasp, jarring the silence.

Eyes wide, Ray rolled onto his back and stared into the darkness that seemed as impenetrable as a cloak draped over him. For the tiniest moment his pulse jumped, and he wanted to bolt in panic, wanted to drag himself out of the tent and into the night itself, no matter how damn cold it would be out there, because maybe there he'd at least be able to see something - anything.

He drew a shaky breath and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to roll up as much as possible and ignore the shivers that ran through him. He felt like a little boy all over again, lost in the vast, empty darkness and scared of the things that lurked in the closet, and like the kid he had once been, he began to tremble as the night closed in on him, snapping its jaws shut around his throat and choking him.

Fraser shifted beside him, and Ray wanted to reach out and grab him, wanted to burrow into the warmth the solid body promised. But he couldn't do it, couldn't bridge the chasm stretching between them, because Fraser had never been as far away as he was right now, right by his side.

"Ray..." he heard Fraser, quiet, hesitantly. There was a hint of concern in his voice, and Ray opened his mouth to laugh it off, to merely bitch about the cold and the snow that was creeping into his clothes and sinking tiny, stinging teeth into his flesh. But his own voice betrayed him, and what came out was not the complaint he had aimed for, but a quick jumble of words, welling up from a dark place that was as treacherous as the ice field they had crossed today.

"Fraserdon'tgo."

He bit his lip hard, but it was already done, and Fraser had stilled beside him, no doubt staring at him in the hint of light that was still enough for *his* eyes.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing." Ray murmured, raising a hand from under the blanket to rub his face slowly, as if chasing away cobwebs. "It's nothing."

"Ray, I have no intention of going anywhere, except to sleep."

"I know that, Fraser. I know that. That's not what I meant."

Silence stretched between them, and for a while Ray entertained the hope that Fraser would actually leave it at that. "Well, what did you mean then?" And hell would freeze over soon, too.

Sighing, Ray shrugged and dug himself deeper into his pile of blankets. "I don't *know* what I meant, Fraser, my mouth just went experimental on me. I... don't know, okay?"

"I see."

"Good."

He waited for more, but for once Fraser remained blissfully silent, and so Ray shrugged again and tucked his blankets tight and tried to go to sleep... again.

Not that it helped much. He kept tossing and turning, and he was still shivering and trembling and aching to just reach over and touch Fraser, and then maybe bury himself into his partner's warm embrace for... oh, about ten years or so.

"When we were interrupted earlier..." The low voice breached the night, and Ray had to smile, a quick curl of his lips that held something other than amusement. He should have known Fraser wouldn't - couldn't - let the puzzle rest. It simply wasn't in his nature. Then Ray's mind caught up with the words, and he felt his heart skip a beat as Fraser continued. "I was about to tell you that I... I don't think I could work with Ray Vecchio the way I did before."

No elaborate story, no lengthy metaphor. Just the mere facts, spoken quietly, in words that were simple, yet by no means easy. "What happened?" he asked after a while, his own voice hushed, a bit breathless. "You've grown apart or something?"

"Or something." Fraser repeated slowly, and Ray heard the smile reflected in those words. "Possibly. We both have changed since he went undercover." And then, after a barely noticeable hesitation, Fraser continued. "Maybe", he said, and Ray felt a tiny shock run through him as Fraser's hand touched his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze before it left him again, "I have been spoiled concerning partners, though."

Ray had to smile at that, because it felt good to hear that, and because it probably was the sappiest thing he had ever gotten from Fraser. But still they didn't do anything to ease his mind because as nice as Fraser's words sounded, they only said the literal - that he wouldn't go back to working with Ray Vecchio again. They said nothing about the man named Stanley Raymond Kowalski.

"So what does this mean?" he finally asked, because he couldn't help it, because he had to know, no matter how it would hit him. "You going back to the Yukon after this?"

And when Fraser hesitated, Ray knew that this was it exactly.

"I... have given that possibility some thought." Fraser's voice sounded quiet and detached - and hell, that cut deep, because he shouldn't be able to sound detached while talking about leaving his partner, and because the stiff words he used already raised thick walls between them, holding back every hint of emotion that might have crept through.

Ray closed his eyes, taking a slow breath and letting it out just as carefully. "That's okay, I guess." he finally replied, and he was damn proud of himself because his voice didn't crack. "I mean, this is where you belong, after all."

Fraser made a soft, thoughtful sound deep in his throat at that. "You know, that is just what Inspector Thatcher said."

Ray bit his lip because those words suddenly filled his mind with pictures of Fraser - Fraser, in the midst of ice and snow, leaning towards a slender figure, leaning down to... to...

"Fraser?"

"Yes, Ray?"

"Would you kiss me good-bye, too?" And only then, when the words were already out of his mouth, Ray realized *what* he had been about to say, and dammit, he couldn't take that back, too late for that, and now his heart had stopped beating because Fraser didn't respond.

A heavy silence settled between them, dense and thick and choking him, because it was too late now, because he had waited too long, and now Fraser wouldn't, 'cause he didn't do casual, and it was too fucking *late* for anything else...

"I..."

Ray turned his head at the voice that just as sudden fell silent again, and he saw Fraser stare at him, wide-eyed and just as shell-shocked as he felt himself. He couldn't help the smile then, a small, sad quirk of his mouth. Hard to find the words to brush *that* one off, right?

He waited quietly until he saw Fraser swallow hard and open his mouth, and when he cleared his throat, Ray already knew the answer, because it was so obvious and the only possible... "Yes."

The world tilted and slipped away underneath him all of a sudden, and Ray had to close his eyes for a moment. Stuck in an elevator going down too fast, out of control... crashing. His chest heaved as he took a gasping breath, and he was shaking because Fraser couldn't have said that, couldn't have...

But Fraser *had* said it. Had said yes, and now he was staring at Ray, licking his lips nervously and waiting for him to react. Another lick, and Ray tensed involuntarily, his gaze drawn irresistibly to the hint of wetness where Fraser's tongue had met his parted lips. He couldn't help it, could only stare at that mouth, unable to look away. And eventually he raised an unsteady hand and reached for his partner before he could lose his nerve. Before his brain could catch up with his body.

Fraser's cheek was smooth and soft against his palm, but Ray didn't linger. He let his hand slide back until it rested against Fraser's neck and wove his fingers through the thick hair absentmindedly, just stroking slowly for a long while. His thumb traced the line of Fraser's throat once, and when he heard Fraser's breath hitch, Ray tugged at the strong neck to pull him closer. And to his surprise he found that there wasn't that much space between them. That Fraser was already much closer than he'd thought, and that his lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, and... oh God, he was kissing him.

A real kiss after all. Not just a brush of lips, a peck on the cheek, but a warm mouth on his now, stealing his breath and numbing his mind and -- sweet Jesus -- breathing heat right back into him, until he was all hot and tingling and dizzy with the need for more.

Fraser's hands came alive then, pushing the blankets out of the way, and Ray moved with him, towards him, until all he felt was the sensation of that firm body pressed up against his own, the heat from that walking furnace called Fraser pouring over him. Fraser's mouth moved against his, almost whispering something, and Ray, instinctively straining to hear those words, tightened his grip on the strong neck. It made Fraser moan into his mouth, a weak, soft sound deep in his throat, and Ray felt the kiss shift and change all of a sudden until it turned intense and urgent and just this side of desperate.

//One more case. *Then* we're done.//

A brief flash of an image as he remembered Fraser, nodding and trying to keep his face blank after Ray's words -- trying, and failing miserably as relief about the extended deadline made his eyes widen. Leaving it up to him to decide what would become of them and eagerly taking everything Ray had to give, no matter how little it was.

Because it was still more than he would ever be able to ask for.

//If you'll have me.//

And in a brief rush of shocking clarity he *understood*.

He dug his fingers hard into Fraser's neck, clinging to him like a drowning man because he knew that no matter how much it hurt, he couldn't ease up now, couldn't let go, because as soon as he did that, it would... end. No matter how much *that* would hurt.

"Fraser!" he gasped as he tore his mouth away because he had to do something, had to, had to... "What about that adventure?"

The rough voice against his cheek made the Canadian catch his breath and rest his face against Ray's shoulder for a moment. A faint tremor went through him, not much more than a shudder that was gone as fast as it had started. As he raised his head, his impression of control was back in place, and his face looked deceptively calm while his thumb took a brief detour, tracing Ray's mouth languidly.

"You still don't consider this an adventure?"

It sounded almost amused, but Ray, who knew him better, heard the hitch in his voice as clearly as a yell. And it told him all he needed to know and everything he had to do.

"Naw. So far it's just been chasing bad guys. Stuff we do every day." he replied, his lips widening as he finally found himself on the right track. "With you, I wanna go for the real thing. I want my adventure. I want to go north and find that Franklin guy's hand, if that's what it takes." *Whatever* it would take.

"I'm... afraid there would be..." Fraser hesitated, his gaze fixed on Ray's mouth, deliberately not meeting his eyes. "... not that much to come across, actually."

"Yeah?" He raised a hand to rest it against the Mountie's cheek, and the gesture made Fraser look up again. And Ray smiled at him. "I think there would be a lot to discover."

He got it then. Oh yeah, he got it -- Ray could tell from the way the muscles strained beneath the serge for a heartbeat, a brief flash of tension as Fraser contemplated what was happening. What exactly he was being offered.

Finally he dropped his hand, very quiet while he simply stared at Ray, meeting his gaze in sudden wide-eyed amazement. Then, the hushed question: "You would do that?"

"Sure." he replied, and since he couldn't really say the stuff that threatened to pour out of his mouth, he said the next best thing. "My turn now to be the freak in your world, after all."

Fraser blinked then and took a deep, deep breath, and when he moved, Ray found himself slowly enveloped by strong arms. He went with it just like he had taken everything in stride from day one and threw himself into the embrace while Fraser buried his face into his shoulder, inhaling deeply. Ray rubbed his cheek against his partner's and got a choked sound in return. The arms around his waist tightened, and Ray gasped because it was damn hard to breathe all of a sudden.

"Fraser..." he pressed out and tried to pull back a little, tried to get some air into his lungs...

And Fraser shuddered against him, clinging to him, desperately, afraid to let go... and dammit, he knew that one.

He wrapped his own arms around Fraser's neck then and pulled him even closer, not giving a damn about anatomical possibilities; he clung to him until he wasn't sure himself where his own body ended and Fraser's began. And as even that wasn't enough anymore, he turned his head and closed his eyes and then pressed his face into the curve of Fraser's neck, feeling like something that had been dislocated for far too long had finally clicked back into place. And he smiled.

Breathing was highly overrated anyway.

-- the beginning --

by Sammy <sammy@home.ins.de>

Read my other stuff at Little Sammy's House Of Fun