I guess I felt like a good wallow in angst with this one. It's a "missing scene" from COTW, with Fraser coming back to Chicago to tie up loose ends in between solving the case and taking off to find the Hand of Franklin.

I know I don't own 'em. You know I don't own 'em. Do we have to bring it up and make me miserable all over again? ;)

FORGET
by Acer canadensis

I think I'll remember this night as long as I live.

I'd just come back, was just settling back into my old life. Getting my things back in order-ok, disorder. Getting used to you all over again.

You know what it's like, being undercover? Funny what you miss, and what you don't. I could handle the new name, the new house, the new car, the new people. I missed my family a little at first, but I got used to that. What I couldn't get used to, what had me on edge the whole damn time I was gone, was not having you around. I'd wake up sometimes before it was even light out and jump out of bed and not realize I didn't have to drive you to the Consulate until I couldn't find my keys. And sometimes when I had to do something I knew you wouldn't like, I'd be halfway turned around with some smartass comeback before I remembered you weren't there, you didn't have those big blue eyes on me with that look that always gets me to do whatever you want, and why the hell did I always see you everywhere anyway?

So now I'm back, and you're here and you're so damn happy to see me you blow my cover without even thinking about it. You really are the most irritating man in the universe, you know that? I've missed being irritated like that.

And I'm pulled back in, another of your stupid plans that always end up with me getting dragged through a sewer or shot at or almost drowned or trapped in a freezer inside a dead horse. Shot, this time. So I'm in the hospital while you're out there tracking down the asshole who killed your mother. Kinda ironic, that the first and last cases we were ever on together were about finding your parents' murderers. I mean, that's what got us together to begin with, I was supposed to help you catch the guy who shot your father, and I ended up in the hospital then too. A bomb, that time. Now a bullet. I let you down both times, ended up stuck here while you solved the case alone.

Only this time you weren't alone. This time you had him. The guy who took my place.

It was supposed to be temporary. I'd go away, he'd cover for me, I'd come back, he'd disappear, and everything would be like old times, except I'd be a hero. That's how it was supposed to go.

Only it didn't.

He tried to steal my life. I guess he knew it wouldn't work, so in the end he gave it back. My name, my family, my job, all the stuff I hadn't missed. But he kept you.

Tonight you came and told me you were leaving. Here I was, detective back from major undercover operation expecting hero's welcome I didn't get because it was swallowed up in your drama. Here I was, recovering from a wound I got taking a bullet for you, again, figuring that at least you overshadowing me and getting me in trouble was a sign that things were getting back to normal and I might as well get used to it. So when you come back from the Frozen North, I take you out to dinner and then drive you home, just like old times. Then you drop this on me.

It starts out as another of your long, rambling, pointless stories. You tell me all about what's happened since I've been away. Even tell me how much you missed me, and I get a little uncomfortable because guys don't talk about things like that. So I kinda stop listening for a while, and the next thing I know you're talking about how that other guy turned out to be your buddy so you weren't lonely anymore, and I wonder when you're ever going to get to the point. Suddenly, you do.

"Ray, Ray... er, Stan, and I..." you stop and rub at your eyebrow with your thumbnail, yet another of the million and one things you do that irritate me. "We're going up North. To look for the hand of Franklin..." You keep talking, while I sit in shock. Finally I find my voice.

"You're leaving? With him?" I stare at you. Suddenly a thought strikes, and I have to ask. "You're not...?" I deliberately leave it hanging.

"We're not...?" Any idiot would know what I mean, but oh no, not you. So innocent.

"Don't play dumb with me, Fraser. You and Stan. Stan and you. You're not...?"

It takes you a minute, but you get it. Suddenly your whole face changes. "Oh. No." You chuckle in that funny way you have. "No, no.. no."

I laugh too, a little. "Well, that's a relief. So, when you leavin'?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Oh." There doesn't seem to be anything else to say, so after a while I stand up and get ready to go. You stop me at the door, suddenly looking uncomfortable and I can tell you're trying to find just the right words for what you want to say. Then you find them, and it's like somebody just hit me with a ton of bricks. What I asked earlier, it's close to the truth. You don't love Stan, and that's why you're going with him. He's safe. You can't stay here because you love... me.

Then you kiss me.

I'm too dazed to do anything but stand there like a fool, and you look at me and for a second I can see everything in your eyes and you say "Goodbye, Ray" in this weird tone and then it's like a shutter clicks and your eyes are flat and I can't see inside anymore and you're backing me out the door and it shuts between us and I get to the car like I'm sleepwalking. I turn on the ignition and I drive and I don't know where I'm going and I don't care. I can still feel your lips on mine. I don't know where I'm going and I don't give a damn.

I drive until I run out of gas, down by the lake, no gas stations in sight. I sit there and I curse for a while, then I get out and I start walking. I still don't know where I'm going. I'm not seeing anything but your face, not hearing anything but your voice telling me you love me. You love me. Not feeling anything but you kissing me. I think I'll feel that until I die.

I'm not sure if I'm angry, or happy, or disgusted, or attracted. Maybe all of them.

Finally I see the sun coming up over the lake, red as that damn tunic you always wear. And that's when I realize that I can't let you leave until I see you one last time, one last chance to find out if you really love me and if, by some crazy, mixed-up chance, this muddle of emotions means I really love you back.

I get in the car and turn the key, and when nothing happens I remember I'm out of gas and I swear in earnest this time. I get out and start walking as fast as I can back into the city to find a taxi. Some wino asks me for a buck and I throw the whole damn wallet at him. There's nothing important in it anyway, I haven't got my driver's license or my shield or my credit cards back yet. Then I remember, too late, that without money I can't get a cab. I'd curse myself again but I can't spare the time. I walk faster.

Two hours past sunrise when I arrive at the Consulate. I pound and holler at the door but it's no good, you're already gone. You're gone and I don't have a car and I can't walk anymore and I don't even have thirty cents to make a phone call. Not that I know who I'd call if I did. I just lean back against the door and sort of slide down until I'm sitting on the steps. This whole crazy night is catching up with me and I guess I fall asleep like that because the next thing I know your Dragon Lady is here and she's threatening to call Welsh if I don't quit loitering on Canadian grounds. I get her to let me use the phone and I call my sister to come pick me up.

I'll feel better after I get some sleep. This has all been so stupid. All the excitement, being wounded, trying to readjust who I am, it's made me sort of nuts. I'll be all right now. Find a new woman, start a new life, forget this ever happened.

Forget you.

Right.

THE END