This story is slash, containing characters who (sadly) do not belong to me and both happen to be men who want to have sex with each other. I'm not writing this for any gain other than my own personal amusement. This story is rated NC-17.

What follows is the seventh installment in the "One Ray, Two Ray, Old Ray, New Ray" (with all due deference to Dr. Suess) which will have something in it to please or offend everyone, including Fraser/Kowalski pairings, Fraser/Vecchio, and even Vecchio/Kowalski. You have been warned.

This story is a sequel to "Reflections...1: Trust and Loyalty."

any comments, suggestions, or complaints can be sent to me at magik@socketis.net

"Ain't Over Till the Mountie Sings" by Barbara J. Webb

There were few aspects of police work Fraser enjoyed more than stake-outs. It was a chance to think, to reflect, while still doing something conducive to the apprehending of a suspect. It was also a good chance to spend quality time with Ray, to talk and enjoy each other's company.

"No shit, Benny, there I was: four aces in my hand, Sal and Aaron had both folded, so that left just Joey an me, staring each other down from across the table. It was late. My eyes were heavy, and stinging so much from the smoke I could barely focus on the cards, but the pot was up to-"

"Isn't gambling illegal, Ray?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "Are you going to let me finish this story, or what?"

"I'm sorry. Please, go on."

"Okay, so the pot was up to-" Inside Ray's jacket, there was a ringing noise. He pulled out his phone, flicking it open. "Vecchio." A moment, listening, then a smile spread over his face. "That sounds nice." Vecchio's eyes flickered over to Fraser, and his smile faltered. "But I can't, Raymond. I'm on a stakeout. Yes, well, until the bad guys decide to show up."

So, it was the love interest on the phone. By Fraser's count, they were at fourteen days now and still no signs of boredom - well above the average length of time for one of Vecchio's relationships. Fraser closed his eyes, leaning his head forward to rest his forehead on his fingers.

"Is that so? No, I hadn't noticed." Ray reclined his seat back, settling in with the phone. "Well, of course he'd say that, but you can never trust these guys. I bet if you just lean on him a bit more, he'll fold."

Fraser knew it wasn't polite to eavesdrop on the conversation, but he couldn't quite help himself. Mostly because Ray was sitting a mere two feet away from him, and it would draw too much attention to their position if Fraser got out of the car.

"Did you like it? Yeah, I figured as much. Why, thank you, Raymond."

A quirk of a smile was on the edge of Vecchio's lips when he said the name, but his voice lacked the warmth that was there when he said 'Benny'. The tone was affectionate, but with an underlying core of superiority, of amusement. Fraser knew it was petty of him to find pleasure in that fact, but he did.

He hated himself for being jealous, but this 'Raymond' seemed to bring out the worst in him. Maybe it was the fact that Ray was now four days overdue for breaking up with him. Maybe it was the fact that Ray seemed to instantly forget about Fraser the minute Raymond was on the phone. Maybe it was the way Ray just instantly settled in and got comfortable while listening to the voice on the other side of the phone. Or maybe it was simply that this man had a part of Ray that Fraser never would.

"Yes, I know. Look, I'll think about that and give you a call back later tonight if I get free. Yeah, me too. Bye." Ray snapped his phone shut, gave a long sigh, rubbing his eyes. "Poor little puppy's lonely."

"Is he?" Fraser tried his best to sound interested. Ray was still his partner and his best friend, and deserved better than Fraser's petty jealousy.

"Yeah, this case he's working on right now is giving him problems. And when he gets frustrated he gets horny. Oh well, what can you do?" Vecchio stretched, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

Fraser shrugged, reclining his own seat. "I wouldn't know, Ray. It's not a situation with which I have a great deal of familiarity."

"We gotta get you laid, Benny. We can't do guy bonding without talking about sex, and how can we talk about sex if you aren't getting any?"

Fraser didn't have a quick answer to this question - at least, not one that he was going to say out loud. "Well, Ray, um, I - do you really think we can't 'bond' without discussing...relations of that sort?"

Vecchio threw his hands in the air. "See? You can't even say it."

Now Fraser was beginning to get annoyed. "I can too say it."

"Sure, Fraser. So go ahead, say it."

"All right." Fraser took a deep breath, steeled himself. "Sex. Are you satisfied?"

Vecchio was grinning at him in a way that made Fraser's bones melt. This entire conversation was having that effect on him, making him decidedly uncomfortable. "You know me, Benny, I'm never satisfied."

To that, Fraser had no reply.

* * * * *

"What do you think, maroon or burgundy?" Ray Vecchio stepped out into the living room, holding two different ties up.

Kowalski looked up from the couch, where he was tearing through the newspaper to find the movie listings. "I don't know why you're asking me; I think they're both ugly."

"Oh, a funny guy. That's cute. Burgundy, definitely. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Kowalski went back to the paper, and Vecchio went back to the mirror in the bedroom.

Carefully, he hung the rejected maroon silk tie back on a hanger, making certain it wouldn't wrinkle. With equal care, he looped the tie around his neck and began the precision operation of tying it. From the other room, Kowalski called, "I don't see why you gotta get dressed up for a movie."

"We're going to dinner first. I like to maintain a certain image in public. It's called style."

Kowalski had come over to stand in the doorway to the bedroom, curved idly against the doorframe. "I got style."

"Yeah, but it's the *kind* of style that matters in the final cut." Two weeks ago, Kowalski would have flipped out at the jab, but he'd calmed down a lot in their time together. Ray had managed to get it through Kowalski's head that he rarely meant anything seriously, and it was about time Kowalski re-learned how to take a joke.

So instead of getting hostile, Kowalski simply came up behind Ray, sliding his hands into Ray's pockets from behind. Vecchio liked the easy banter they tossed back and forth at each other, but even more he liked the tactics Kowalski had taken up when the verbal sparring wasn't going his way - namely shamelessly hitting on Ray.

Tonight, Ray had managed to con Kowalski into a suit jacket over his t-shirt, which was a step in the right direction. He took Kowalski's arms by the wrists, and brought his hands up to kiss them, one after another. "I'm almost ready. Just give me a few more minutes."

Kowalski leaned forward, resting his chin on Ray's shoulder, so they were cheek to cheek. "I'm tired of waiting. Let's just go. You look fine. S'only pizza and a movie. C'mon."

Ray hooked an arm around him, dragging him around in front of Ray. "You are so damned impatient." Taking Kowalski's face in his hands, he pulled him forward for a deep, passionate kiss. Kowalski pressed himself full body against Ray, leaning into the kiss with absolute abandon. "Okay, that's enough. Now go wait."

Kowalski grinned - that gorgeous, 'make me' smile - and slid his hands down Ray's chest, dropping down to his knees. "You know what? I don't feel much like getting out." His hands moved to cover the crotch of Vecchio's pants. "Let's stay in."

"But I'm almost dressed." Vecchio knew this was a losing battle. Once Kowalski latched onto an idea, it was almost impossible to dislodge from that spiky blonde head. It was really no big deal - they went out most nights when one of them wasn't working, and it might be fun to spend the evening in Kowalski's apartment - but there was no way Vecchio was letting the kid think he won just yet.

However, parts of his body weren't fully on board with the plan. He could feel himself starting to get hard under Kowalski's eager hands. With his knee in Kowalski's chest, he pushed the younger man back. "Besides, I thought you were all excited about that new Mel Gibson movie."

Vecchio's tactics hardly made a dent in Kowalski's determination. "I'll see it some other time." Elbowing Ray's knee aside, he began unfastening Ray's suit pants. "Time to get undressed again - let's see if you can do that any faster."

With unhurried care, Ray began loosening his tie again. This was the way to get to Kowalski, Ray knew: make him wait for it. Ray knew Kowalski's buttons and his strings - the kid was putty in his hands.

* * * * *

"You moved in with him?"

Ray Vecchio shook his head, took another bite out of the pretzel he'd picked up from a vendor a block back. Fraser had talked Ray into coming with him as he took his self-appointed rounds through his neighborhood. Dief was following close at Ray's heels - hoping his friend would share. "I'm not moved in with him; I just keep a few suits and ties there, is all. Easier than going home to change any time we decide to do something where I don't want to look casual." Ray rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Not that I could get him to wear decent clothes on a dare. Sometimes, it's almost embarrassing to be seen in public with the kid."

"I'm certain he's simply expressing himself in the manner he feels most comfortable, as are you, Ray. There is certainly no shame in being one's self, even if that self doesn't always match one's surroundings. It's much like-"

"Don't start, Benny. The last thing I need right now is another love and tolerance pseudo-lecture guilt thing."

"Understood." And Fraser did understand. After three weeks, they were getting to a phase in the relationship that Fraser recognized - had heard a dozen times before: the long lists of faults, the complaints, the criticisms. The new shiny had warn off of this Raymond person; Ray was beginning to get bored.

And while, usually, Fraser couldn't approve of Vecchio's relationship endgame - the days of tireless recitatives of his lover's imperfections - this time Fraser almost welcomed it. Horrible as it was to think such things, Fraser was glad this relationship was ending; over the past few weeks, he had become deeply jealous of this man he had never met - who's last name he didn't even know - merely because of the way, for a while, he had made Ray smile at his voice on the other end of the phone. And the way Ray had spent every free night with him. And the way Ray had tuned Fraser out at the mere thought of this other man.

Jealousy was an ugly, ugly emotion, and Fraser had wanted to believe himself above it, but this Raymond had shown Fraser one of the darker sides of his soul - and he disliked the man for that as well.

But it would be over soon, unless this situation showed itself to be deeply different from all the others. Vecchio was getting bored, and when Ray got bored, there was nothing short of an act of God that could resuscitate the passion.

And Fraser hated himself for the small spark of joy that thought brought forth.

* * * * *

Vecchio moaned as Kowalski's fingers dug deeply into his muscles, easing the tension in his shoulders. He was sprawled on Kowalski's bed, stark naked, getting one of the better back-rubs of his life. Right now, Kowalski was straddling his hips, the rough fabric of his jeans - the only thing he was wearing - scraping suggestively against Ray's ass.

"Where did you ever learn to do this?"

He could feel Kowalski shrug. "Stella had a lot of stress. It was sorta a survival tactic." Kowalski's thumbs pressed on either side of his spine as the heels of his hands rubbed Ray's skin in a circular motion.

"I definitely think that if you ever want to leave the force, you have great career potential as a masseuse. I have never - oh, right there."

"This spot?" Kowalski rubbed harder, relaxing the muscles in an almost magical fashion. Ray groaned.

Kowalski stopped for a moment to rub more oil on his hands, then continued his explorations of the small of Ray's back. It felt wonderful. But then, almost any time Kowalski touched him it felt wonderful. The kid had wonderful hands, a great body, and a face Vecchio just wanted to hang on his wall and stare at the rest of his life. As long as Kowalski was touching him, everything was great.

But not so much elsewhere in the relationship. Little things were starting to get to Ray, like the way Kowalski left wet towels on the bed and draped over furniture. Or the way he would get distracted by things and wander off with the refrigerator door open or the water running. Or the way-

Ray's hands found a particularly sensitive spot, and Ray moaned again. "Yeah, Raymond, right there." And there were times when Ray could forgive - or at least forget - every problem he had with Detective Raymond Kowalski.

In the back of Ray's mind, a small voice that he never much liked to listen to, suggested that he would forget every problem he had with Kowalski as soon as he stopped seeing the kid; that was how it always worked.

Then Kowalski's hands moved lower, working over Vecchio's ass, his slick fingers slipping in and out of the crack. "Mmm, that's a good place, too." He pushed up against Kowalski's hand, feeling a hard bulge in Kowalski's jeans pressing against his thigh.

"You wouldn't believe the bust I made today."

Vecchio was finding it more difficult to concentrate on anything but Kowalski's hands working up and down his thighs, his fingers brushing tantalizingly against Ray's balls. "New rule: no shop talk while I'm not wearing any clothes."

"Something else you'd rather talk about?" Kowalski leaned down and blew lightly along the line between Ray's back and neck, sending a cool shiver down Ray's spine.

"Talk? No."

Now Kowalski's tongue was dancing along the back of Ray's neck. "So what do you wanna do?"

Vecchio lifted his ass, rubbing harder against Kowalski's crotch. "Hmm...not sure. Any ideas?"

Moving his oral attentions down to Ray's shoulder blade, Kowalski slid his oil-slicked hands beneath Ray, rubbing up and down Ray's chest. Ray could feel Kowalski's chest against his back, his nipples hard and brushing against Ray's skin. "Might have an idea or two."

"Good. *My* idea is for you to fuck me. How does that sound?"

To answer, Kowalski slid his hand down over Ray's abdomen, stroking in circles, while he pushed his leg in between Ray's. "Um...okay."

Ray turned his head and hooked Kowalski's arm, pulling him down beside Ray to ravage Kowalski's mouth with his tongue. "You're such a slut, Kowalski." The kid pulled back, starting to sputter an objection, but Ray simply smiled and dragged him back into the kiss. "Not that that's a bad thing."

"You're a bastard, Vecchio." Now Kowalski was pouting - so much for Ray having taught the kid how to take a joke.

So he changed his tactics, dropping light kisses down Kowalski's jaw, his neck, his bare chest. With gentle hands he coaxed the sudden cold stiffness out of Kowalski's lean form, caressing Kowalski with the entire length of his body. "Come on, Raymond. Don't be so sensitive. You know I don't mean anything by it."

Kowalski sighed, yielding to Vecchio's hands and mouth. Ray unfastened Kowalski's jeans, pushing them down, followed by his underwear. He took a hold of Kowalski's straining cock, brushing his fingers over the head. Kowalski threw his head back, thrusting his hips against Ray's hand. "Oh yeah, baby, you want this." Ray grasped Kowalski's erection more firmly, letting Kowalski screw his fist. "Don't pretend you don't."

Kowalski's back was arched, his eyes closed - his entire form the picture of abandon. Ray ran his other hand down Kowalski's chest, following the contours of straining muscles. When he tweaked a nipple, Kowalski let out one of those strange, spontaneous noises that Ray found endearing.

But none of this was getting Ray off. Squirting some more massage oil into his hand, he rubbed the head of Kowalski's cock, stroked up and down the shaft. He leaned forward to whisper in Kowalski's ear. "I want you inside me, Raymond." Kowalski sucked in his breath, bringing up his hands to push Ray back down to the bed. "See?" Ray grinned. "Like I said, my little slut."

Kowalski struck the heels of his open hands against Vecchio's chest with enough force to hurt, overbalancing the older detective and making him fall back. "What?" Ray demanded as Kowalski stormed into the other room.

"Just leave me alone!" Kowalski slammed shut the bedroom door behind him.

"You're such a fucking little prima donna, Kowalski - I don't know why I put up with it." Ray pitched his voice loud enough that the blonde detective would hear him. He slammed his fist down on the bed, refusing to even listen to the little voice - that sometimes sounded a lot like Fraser's - telling him that he had provoked that fight, knowing full well what would push Kowalski's buttons.

It was getting very near the end now.

* * * * *

Ray had been quiet all day, hardly responding to anything Fraser said, his mind seemingly somewhere far away. And now, as they pulled up in front of Fraser's apartment, Ray set the car in park and just leaned his head down over the steering wheel, running his hand back through his hair. "You're home, Benny." It was almost the longest sentence that had come out of Ray's mouth all that day. "See ya tomorrow."

But Fraser wasn't ready to go. Something was eating at Ray, and there was no chance Fraser was going to abandon him in his moment of need. Instead he reached over, turning the car keys to shut off the engine. "What's wrong, Ray?"

Vecchio shook his head, managing something that almost resembled a smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

"No, you're not, Ray. And if I may point out-"

"No, you can't." Ray sighed, leaning back against his seat. "I'm not sure I want to talk about it."

Fraser lay his hand on Ray's arm, squeezing gently. "You know I'm here for you, to listen, if you need anything."

That elicited a genuine smile from the detective. "Thanks, Benny. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"So you're going to talk?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Fraser patted Ray's arm again, then pulled his hand back. "We all have choices, Ray. No one can take that away from you."

"You think so, Fraser? Well, what if *I'm* taking my choices away from me? What about that?"

Obviously, there was a great deal going on beneath the surface here, but Fraser was a patient man. He could sit here all night, coaxing it from his partner if he had too - nothing would make him happier. "I'm afraid I don't understand. What choices have you taken away from yourself?"

Ray did not immediately answer, and they sat for a while in silence, in the darkness lit only by the failing streetlight halfway down the block. Fraser was aware of the sounds of cars on the street, of a radio playing loudly inside the apartment building, of the low crackling of Ray's police radio. He was also aware of Ray's nearness, of the heat radiating from his body, of the smell of his cologne, of the rustling sounds of his shifting around.

"You ever wonder, Fraser, if there's anyone out there for you?"

"In what sense?"

Ray's shrug was a motion Fraser heard more than saw. "You know, a person just for you. A wife, or whatever you Canadians have - someone besides Dief to share your little cabin in the wilderness."

That was a dangerous question. "I do believe there is someone for me - for everyone, really. Finding that person, and recognizing the connection for what it is: that can be the most difficult part."

"You ever think about being lonely, bout getting to the end, when you're old, and not having someone there with you to share it with?"

"Yes...sometimes." More since he'd come to Chicago and settled into partnership with Ray. Up in the Territories, when he'd spent weeks in the wilderness with no one but his dogs, the thought had never occurred to him. He just hadn't thought about people much - about needing people - in the solitude of the wild. It had only been when he'd come to the city, pressed in on all sides by people, that he had first felt the twinges of loneliness.

"Me too." Again, a silence fell between them, but it was a comfortable silence. In the close darkness of the car, there seemed to be almost no barriers between them; Fraser felt confident that Ray was almost ready to say what was on his mind.

There was a scraping sound - Ray was dragging his fingernails along the hard plastic at the center of the steering wheel. "I'm not seeing that kid anymore - the detective from the 18^th." Fraser felt a brief flutter of joy - quickly beaten down by his conscience. Ray was unhappy, and if the reason for that was tied into his breakup with that other detective, then Fraser couldn't be happy about the separation.

Even if it meant this other man was out of the picture - this man who'd made Fraser feel bad things, black things that he still was unwilling to accept were a part of him.

Fraser remained silent, not completely sure he had anything constructive to say regarding the end of Ray's relationship. "You know, I liked him, Fraser. I actually liked him a lot." There was pain in Ray's voice, and Fraser felt instantly racked with guilt for every fleeting wish he'd had that the relationship would end; in a way, he had been indirectly connected with something that had hurt Ray. "And everything was going great." Ray hit his fist against the steering wheel. "And then, it wasn't."

A thought, almost too frightening to voice aloud. "Do you think you were in love with him?"

"No, not really." The answer was easy, unhurried, and a great relief to Fraser. "But, you know, I'm not sure it would have mattered if I was."

"I'm not sure I understand, Ray."

"Yeah, Fraser, I don't figure you would." Ray let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. "Naw, I bet when you fall in love the angels start singing, the lights dim, except for you two, music swells in the background, and you feel so gooey in love that the world snaps into place around you. No, you probably don't understand."

Now Fraser really didn't understand what they were talking about. "I think that may be a bit of an exaggeration."

"I know, Benny, I know. I didn't mean that literally."

"What *are* you trying to say?"

A tapping sound - Ray's foot against the gas pedal. "I don't know," he finally answered. "It's just, that's how it goes every time. Fine for a while, then, all of a sudden, I can't stand 'em. I mean, now I can - right now, I can't even remember half the reasons I was so ready to be done with the kid."

"I see." Fraser took a stab in the dark. "So, if I may, you believe that your reasons for ending these relationships are not necessarily directly resultant from aspects of the relationships themselves. You feel that, perhaps, your feelings near the end might have been more projections of a state of mind from within you, rather than a reaction to anything external."

"Um, yeah, I guess - you know, Fraser, it frightens me to think that it sounds like that inside your head all the time." Now, Ray was sounding more like himself. "I just wonder, sometimes, what if I find my person, and it goes exactly the same? What if I meet my perfect match and it lasts three weeks?"

Fraser was having difficulties remaining completely neutral in this conversation. Ray was voicing the same fears that Fraser went to sleep with every night. What if he were to tell Ray how he felt, find out that Ray reciprocated his feelings...and then have it explode in three weeks, destroying not only their romantic relationship, but their partnership as well?

"There is a story of a bear-"

"Aw, Fraser, not a story-"

"Please, Ray." Vecchio threw up his hands and Fraser continued. "Now, this bear, like all bears, hibernated every winter. Every year, he spent months in sleep, dreaming of the joys of spring and summer, when he could frolic and eat sweet berries and juicy fish. Now, there came a year when winter didn't come-"

"Fraser, why wouldn't winter come?"

"This is a story, Ray. Now, all the other animals of the forest, they knew that there would be no winter, and they spread the news around the forest."

"Fraser, animals can't talk."

"Are you going to let me finish? So, this bear listens to the talk, but he isn't sure he believes it. So he still eats and eats, preparing for winter, on the chance that the other animals might be wrong.

"In the end, however, it turns out the animals were right. Summer never flees, and winter never comes. But the bear, he is prepared for hibernation, fat and sated, and cannot stay awake to enjoy the summer weather. He falls asleep, hibernating throughout the time that would have been winter, and thus losing this gift of time."

Fraser finished his recitative, then fell silent. Ray was also quiet. Just as Fraser was beginning to think he might have gotten through to Ray, the detective exploded.

"Fraser, what the hell was that supposed to mean?"

"I can't explain it to you, Ray. The answer is something you have to find for yourself."

Ray laughed, an exasperated sound, but one with genuine amusement behind it. "Benny, you're a nut. Get out of my car."

"All right. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course." Fraser opened the door and stood up. As he was turning to go, Ray leaned over to look out the door at him. "Hey, Benny."

"Yes, Ray?"

Vecchio smiled at Fraser, with gentle affection. "Thanks, Benny."

"You're welcome, Ray. Good night." Fraser ascended the steps to his apartment, wondering if Ray would ever be ready to settle down - would ever be ready to settle down with Fraser, or if Fraser would spend the rest of his life alone.

Alone, and pining for his partner.