This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. No infringement of any copyrights held by Due South c/o Alliance is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. I am only borrowing the characters for a few minutes, however, the story and speculations herein are all mine. BTW this is a Stan story.

Rated G

Another Christmas
(by Catalina Dudka - Copyright 1996)

Once again sleep eluded him. Even though he was dead tired, his body ached in a million places, and his eyes burned with the grit of too much thinking, he could not sleep. It's easy, he told himself, just close your eyes and count sheep. But it wasn't happening. So he did what he always did at times like these.

After throwing off the covers, and fumbling atop the nightstand for his glasses, Stanley Raymond Kowalski left a rumpled bed and entered an equally rumpled living room. Rolling the centre rug out of the way, he snapped a walkman to the waist band of his boxers, and fitted in his newest favourite tape.

As he closed his eyes, the opening chords thrummed through him. Throaty piano was joined by forlorn strings. His feet began to shuffle along the bare wooden floor in a tentative pattern as he allowed his body to recall the intricate, melancholy steps of the Tango. And he allowed his exhausted mind to drift.

At first he succeeded in losing himself in the dance. The sensuality of the music, the rhythm of the steps, the longing of the voice singing along in the tinny manner of long ago. His body swayed along with that of his invisible partner. He could almost feel her there. The small of her back beneath his palm, her hand at the nape of his neck. He could feel the brush of her body against his, the fan of her breath against his cheek, the silkiness of her hair on his sleeve.

An expletitive burst from his lips as he pushed the earphones off. That hadn't helped at all! Why couldn't he just put her out of his mind? She certainly had no trouble erasing him out of hers. Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, Ray took that last thought back, for it hadn't been fair.

Stella had tried as hard as he to keep their marriage together, maybe even harder. But nothing had worked, for this time love had not been enough. Their lives had taken differing directions, and no matter how hard they'd tried to meet halfway, that place had grown harder and harder to find everyday.

With a sigh, Ray walked to the window, and leaned his forehead against the cool glass. As the ghosts created by his breath coalesced and dissipated, he contemplated the path he found himself in. Not exactly the place he had envisioned all those years ago when he'd made the decision to join the Force. He had most certainly not dreamed he would one day give up his home, his life, even his true name ... so easily at that.

It had sounded so simple then. Hey Ray! They'd said. Ya want a new life?? We know you're not to happy with the one you got now. How 'bout it?? Yeah! He'd answered. Why not?? Can't be any worse than this one. And here he was, a pretender, a simulcrum, a faux-Ray, and he was both better and worse off than before. Because he'd forgotten a few details.

He had failed to realize that this new life entailed others. Other people with feelings of their own. People who had known and cared for the one who's place he was occupying. It didn't matter that this charade had been created to protect that one, he still felt like an usurper.

The grey light of morning eclipsed that of the street lights, and revealed thick flakes of snow that added themselves to the drifts already blanketing the city outside his window. A city that still looked festive through little peeks of green, red, and gold decorations, and once again reminded Ray of the reason for his blue funk.

Christmas, never had been a favourite holiday. It seemed to bring a greater number of sorrowful memories every year. With an resigned shrug, Stanley Raymond Kowalski turned away from the window and got ready for work.

The party was in full swing. The squad room was resplendent in glittery garlands, blinking lights, and paper snowflakes. Eggnog, and caffe lattes were being consumed freely as well as several kinds of cookies. Smiling a small smile at the greetings thrown his way, Ray made his way through the merry crowd to his desk, and pretended to immerse himself in paperwork. He figured he'd stick it out for ten minutes more, then make his escape.

Sneaking stealthily away, Ray almost made it to the door, when he found his way barred by a panting wolf.

"Com'on man, outta my way."

"Ray, you wouldn't be leaving without us, would you?"

Turning round, Ray spied the couple behind him. There they stood. The tall Mountie in his imposing red serge, and the tiny woman in an even more imposing short green velvet dress with appropriate gold bangles.

"Yes. I mean no. I mean, why not?"

"Have you forgotten? Christmas Eve dinner at the Vecchios, and Midnight Mass?" Answered the Mountie.

"Yeah. Ma would not appreciate it at all if you stood us up." Piped in his pretend sister.

"I'm kinda not in the mood." Ray tried to excuse himself. "I mean, you guys don't want me there."

A small frown marred the Mountie's brow. "You don't mean?"

"You've got to be kidding?" Frannie broke in. "Why wouldn't we want you there?"

"Coz ... You know!"

"Listen, Ray." Stepping up to him, the small woman, who did not seem so small after all, poked at his chest with a sharply manicured finger to emphasize her point. "You were invited to dinner, and that's where you're going. We Vecchios do not extend Christmas Eve dinner invitations lightly, only family comes. And. You. Stanley. Raymond. Kowalski. Are. Family. Capish??

Ray's eyes, moved from the warm, dark brown ones, to the, equally warm blue ones. "Huh?"

"Yes, Ray, like Diefenbaker and I, you are a Vecchio. And besides we need a ride."

"Huh?!?"

"Francesca failed to bring proper footgear for walking in the snow and I believe taxis would be a rarity indeed on this night." Fraser explained, a lopsided smile replacing the initial frown.

"That's right Bro."

Francesca held out her wool coat so that Ray was forced to assist her, and to find her arm tucked through his.

"Let's go Bro." She urged.

"I couldn't have said it better myself." Fraser agreed, and so did Diefenbaker with a happy bark.

"I have no choice do I?"

"None at all, Ray, none at all."

And Ray was surprised to find he didn't mind at all.

The End