This is my first attempt at fanfic, so be gentle {g}. But I'd love to hear feedback, good or bad. (ellis_jo@hotmail.com)

The events in this story take place in the same time frame as MOTB, so spoilers abound. Oh, and it'll help to have seen both parts, because I didn't bother repeating a lot of the events in the episode. Although I did steal (er, borrow) a fair amount of dialogue {g}.

Standard disclaimers apply: these aren't my characters, I'm just borrowing them, and please please please don't sue me.
Rating: nothing too sexually explicit, (sorry to disappoint), though it is M/M (BF/RK). PG for mild swearing.
And I'll repeat: ***SPOILERS*** for both parts of MOTB.

---

"Alone We're Incomplete"

The blue eyes seemed to look through him. Ray arched an eyebrow. "What're you looking at?" he demanded, shifting uncomfortably.

There was a pause as the Mountie's eyes met his. "You."

Ray frowned. "C'mon, keep your eyes on the road." Fraser turned back to the controls of the small submersible. "Lookin' at me," he muttered, suddenly very aware of the heat of Fraser's back against his chest. *What the hell does he think he's doing?* He tried to slide back, to put some distance between them, but metal jabbed into his back and he had to sit still. *Relax, Stan, you're imagining things. He's the original ladies' man. Besides, he's still pining for whatshername* He conjured up the appropriate mental file. *Victoria* "Come on Fraser," he said aloud, "Are we up the creek without a paddle here? Are we lost?"

"No, we're not. We're not."

"Just admit it, Fraser, we're lost."

The Mountie's voice rose. "No, we're not. We're not lost," he repeated unconvincingly.

"Admit it!"

"All right, we're lost!" Fraser shouted.

Ray smiled with grim satisfaction, then felt strangely guilty. "Ok. Thank you." *Thankin' him for getting us lost. There's logic for ya* "Go that way," he ordered suddenly.

Fraser turned slightly. "Why?"

"I got a feeling. It's... it's a hunch. It's a feeling. Go that way," he repeated.

"Yes, but there's absolutely no reason why I..."

"Look Fraser, just this once. I trust you every single time. Every single time I got to trust you. Just once you trust me. Go that way."

"But if we..."

"No ifs ands or buts," Ray snarled impatiently. What the hell was Fraser trying to do, drive him nuts? Stuck in this sardine can for how long had it been now, the air hot and stuffy, his legs numb... Ray shook his head, trying to clear his mind. The memories kept playing themselves out in his head, over and over. He could still feel his partner's -- *Ex-partner's?* --hot mouth covering his, breathing life into his body. *Nothing has changed, right? So why am I so confused? Freak* He shook his head again.

Finally, Fraser complied. "That way?" he asked, gesturing to the left.

"Yeah, that way."

He cranked the wheel slowly to the left. "All right."

***

The sub churned through the water, on and on, as Ray's thoughts whirled. Fraser was silent, attention fixed on the controls and on the small screen in front of him. Then his back straightened.

"What is it?" demanded Ray, leaning forward, trying to see the screen over his partner's shoulder. *Land? A boat? Anything* he prayed silently. *Anything to escape this*

"I think it's a vessel. But I don't think it's a freighter. Judging from its shape and displacement, I think it's..." Fraser paused, then reached up and removed his headphones.

"Oh my God, Ray, I don't believe this," he breathed. "Prepare to surface."

As the sub tilted up towards the surface, the Mountie slid back along the narrow bench that passed for a seat. Ray pressed his back hard up against the jutting metal and swallowed, tipping his head back slightly. "Fraser..." he gasped, panic striking him again. He closed his eyes and again felt his lungs burning, then the memory of that blessed cool air... he jerked his eyes open. "Fraser!"

His partner's eyes were fixed on the radar screen. "What is it, Ray?"

Ray bit his lip. "So why're we surfacing?"

"There's a ship, Ray. And if I'm correct, it belongs to an acquaintance of mine."

"Yeah? So's it like a motor boat or what?"

"Are you familiar with the tale of the Mutiny on the Bounty?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "If I say no, you're gonna tell me, right? So just pretend I am."

"This particular vessel is a replica of the Bounty. It was built by a fellow member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. A rather unorthodox move, perhaps, but then again, she was never a particularly orthodox officer." The sub leveled out. "Open the hatch, Ray."

Ray leaned up and pushed at the hatch. "Can't budge it." *Oh God*...his heart was pounding. *We can't be stuck* "God damn..." he swore aloud.

Fraser interrupted him. "Excuse me, Ray. I believe it's simply necessary to move this..." He shifted, twisting around until he was facing Ray. "Sorry," he apologized, as his booted feet nudged Ray's ankles. He reached up, adjusting the latch, then opened the hatch. "Voila."

"There ya go with the bilingual stuff again." grumbled Ray mechanically as the fresh air flowed into the tiny space.

Fraser leaned forward and gripped his shoulder tightly, and he jolted to attention. "Yeah, what?" He was acutely conscious of the five fingers burning through his sweater. *Stop touching me, damn it*

"Pardon me, Ray. I'm going to signal the ship to alert them to our presence." He stood up through the hatch. Ray breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

*I won't look* he made himself promise, then found himself arguing. *But he's _right_ there* He kept his eyes shut tight. It didn't help. The outline of Fraser's hips and the proximity of his crotch were etched into his mind.

Fraser ducked down. "Kindly grip my calves, Ray."

Ray jumped. "What?"

"Kindly..."

"Yeah I heard you, but why, I mean?"

"To prevent me from being swept away, Ray." The Mountie straightened up again. Ray hesitated, then wrapped his fingers around Fraser's calves. The muscles tensed beneath his hands for an instant as the sub tilted in the swells, then relaxed. Ray swallowed.

"You okay up there, Fraser?"

"Ahoy, Bounty!" he shouted. "We've been spotted. They're headed this way." He stooped again. "Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray... Ray!"

*Oops* "Yeah?"

"Are you all right?" Fraser was staring at him with an expression of mild concern.

"Sure, yeah, why do you ask?" He forced a smile.

"You seem to be gripping my legs with a great deal more force than is required."

Ray loosened his grasp. "Sorry. Don't wanna lose you now."

Fraser nodded and stood up again. A few moments later, there was a bump as the sub butted against the hull of the Bounty. "You in there, Detective?" asked Welsh's gruff voice from somewhere up above.

"Heya Sir." called Ray as Fraser's legs disappeared up out of the hatch. He stood up and let the lieutenant help his partner haul him up out of the sub. They pulled him over the rail, and he collapsed onto the wooden deck. It took him a moment to clear his head and wipe the sweat from his face. Running a hand through his blond hair, he looked around. And stared. "What is this, a pirate ship?"

"Welcome to the Bounty, Detective. Sergeant Thorn, Royal Canadian Mounted Police," said a voice from behind him. He looked back. A thick pair of legs, clad in the same brown boots Fraser wore. He looked up. A short, stocky woman dressed in red stared grimly back at him.

"Detective Vecchio. Chicago PD." He gave her a tired wave.

She frowned at his flippancy. "This is war, Detective. And this is the ship that will hunt down those pirates and send them to their watery graves. "

*War?* He laughed weakly. "Davey Jones' locker, huh?"

"It is no laughing matter, Detective." The woman gave him a final icy stare then turned and strode over to join the Inspector, Lieutenant Welsh and Fraser. Turnbull scuttled out of her way and edged up to Ray.

Ray tried to ignore the gawky constable's ranting, (he seemed to be complaining about regulation uniforms and swords, for some reason), and to pay attention to the planning. "Fraser, why is it always up to us?" he interrupted. *I just want to crawl into a nice warm bed and sleep for a week. Although a snack would be nice too* The others seemed to ignore him. He sighed and wandered off in search of something to eat.

***

As he stood at the bow, munching a sandwich, he felt a touch on his arm. "Are you all right, Ray?" Fraser was looking at him with concern. "You seemed... quiet."

"Fine. Yeah, I'm fine. You know, it's just that being trapped in a sinking boat kinda shakes you up a bit." He turned to face the water. "Uh... I guess I should thank you."

"You already did, Ray." Fraser joined him at the rail.

Ray nodded slowly. "It doesn't seem like enough." He paused. "You saved my life."

Beside him, Fraser was nodding too. "Call it payback," he suggested. "For all the times I've asked you to trust me."

"All the times you've endangered my life in a wildly bizarre way," said Ray, smiling.

Fraser smiled back. "I'm sorry about that Ray."

Ray shrugged. "Ok, so we're even. Now what about these pirates?"

Fraser paused. "You won't like it," he began, "but this is the plan."

***

The ship rocked gently on the waves. The rhythmic motion was soothing, and Ray let his eyes unfocus. He felt the warmth of the setting sun bathing the back of his neck, and replayed the climactic scene in the hold of the tanker. He smiled. Leave it to Fraser to catch a criminal in such a melodramatic way. Just then he heard voices nearby and looked up to see Fraser walking with the Inspector. After a moment, the Inspector left, and Ray went up to him. Fraser moved to the rail and leaned on it. Ray joined him. "So. The transfer. Ya thought about it?"

"Well, it would be the logical career move." Fraser took off his hat and ran his hand through his dark hair. Ray smothered a smile at the sight of his friend's usually perfect hair standing on end.

"That's what I think. That's what my instinct tells me." *Liar* he told himself.

Fraser looked away. There was a long pause. He seemed to be listening intently, yet all Ray could hear was the faint lapping of the waves on the hull. He dropped his head and stared at his hands, twisting his slender fingers. "Thank you," said Fraser suddenly.

"For what?" Ray looked at him, frowning slightly.

"Well." Fraser paused again. "I realize that logic doesn't always work," he explained.

"I know. And I realize that going on instinct doesn't always work either," Ray admitted. He looked out at the rippling water.

"No, no," agreed Fraser. "So."

"You gonna take the transfer?" asked Ray, trying to keep his voice level and light.

Fraser fumbled with his hat. "I don't think so." Ray nodded. "You?"

"Me? No."

"Alright. So we're still... still..."

Ray bit his lip as his mind finished the sentence for him. "I think," he said quickly, before he blurted out anything he'd regret.

"Okay."

"Good."

"Right you are."

*What an emotional couple of guys we are* Ray glanced at Fraser and couldn't help grinning. The Mountie grinned back.

After a long silence, Ray stepped away from the railing. "I'm beat. Are there actually beds on this thing?"

"Of course, Ray. The Bounty is fully equipped with..."

"Less talk, more action. Lead me to 'em."

Fraser fell into step alongside him. "Actually, Ray, the beds are more like hammocks."

"I am _not_ sleeping in string."

"I believe they're made of cord, Ray."

"I have had a _really_ bad day. I want a bed. A real bed, with sheets and blankets and a pillow and a _bed_." *God, I'm getting whiny*

Fraser sighed. "I'll talk to Sergeant Thorn and see if she can find you somewhere to sleep that will meet your extravagant tastes."

Ray eyed him suspiciously. "Was that sarcasm, Fraser?"

"Don't be silly, Ray."

***

He'd finally gotten a comfortable bed, and now he couldn't sleep. Ray sighed and rolled over again, getting helplessly tangled in the sheets. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the rising water, feel the tightness in his lungs. The panic. He pulled the blanket over his head, trying to shut out the sound of the waves crashing on the hull, but the claustrophobia of the bucket over his head and then the closeness of the sub came back to him and he sat bolt upright, breathing heavily. *Trapped. I'm still trapped* He looked down. *Hang on...*

"Get the hell off my legs, Dief." He gave the wolf a shove. Dief yowled disapprovingly but hopped off the bunk and went over to the door. "There's no way I'm taking you for a walk now." He paused. *Just where is he supposed to... go?* With a sigh, Ray hauled himself up. "Lucky for you I wasn't asleep, wolf." He grabbed the regulation grey blanket off the bed and wrapped it around himself. "Come on." He opened the door and went out into the narrow corridor. The wolf followed, winding closely around his calves. "So why aren't you with Fraser? You guys been fighting again or what?" He could have sworn the wolf glared at him. "Thought you were deaf," he rambled, relieved to be out of the tiny bunkroom. Dief trotted up the steep stairway leading to the deck, and Ray followed.

"Detective?" A voice spoke from the darkness, near the stern. Ray looked around but couldn't see anyone. A moment later, Inspector Thatcher stepped out of the shadows. "Hello Detective."

Ray groaned inwardly and was about to slip back to his bunkroom, but changed his mind when he saw the serious look on her face. *Or maybe I should be running. Am I really in the mood for a deep conversation right now? Or ever?* But he stayed put, since Dief was standing on his foot.

"Inspector?"

She came closer. "I'm glad you're still up, Detective. I've been wanting to speak to you about Constable Fraser."

"Oh?"

Thatcher glanced down then hurriedly back up. "Pardon me, Detective. I see that you and Constable Fraser share a similar dress code when off duty."

Ray blushed and wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself, glad he'd decided to wear the shorts and T-shirt he'd found in the locker beside his bunk.

"At any rate, Detective, I was wondering if you'd noticed any... oddities in Fraser's behavior."

"Oddities?" *Hooboy. You mean like licking arsenic-laden PCBs? Or leading a gang of potentially violent men in a singalong?* "No." He studied her. "Why? Have you noticed anything?"

This time, he could almost imagine she was blushing. "He's been... unresponsive lately."

*Unresponsive?* Ray rapidly ran through all the meanings _that_ could have. "I'm not sure I follow."

"I don't know." She shook her head, looking flustered. "Preoccupied. Distracted. I know he isn't on duty right now, but it's disconcerting, and I want to be sure he'll be able to function when he's back at work. _If_ he's back at work."

"He's not taking the transfer," said Ray.

She stared, then smiled. "Well. Then it's even more important I find out what's wrong." She paused. "Detective, I wonder if you'd mind speaking to him. Try to find out what's on his mind."

Ray shrugged. "Sure. I haven't noticed anything though." Even as his lips finished the sentence, his thoughts were whirling. *Oh no. No. Oddities. Oddities like Fraser staring at me? It was just my imagination, wasn't it? But if the Inspector had noticed something too...* He replayed her words. *Unresponsive. God. She had tried to flirt with him or something. And he hadn't reacted* "Uh... Inspector, I know you and I haven't always gotten along." *Now there's an understatement for ya* "But I always kinda suspected the two of you had something going on." He broke off as her eyes widened.

"Detective! What gives you the right to speculate about my private life?"

"I just thought..." he tried to explain. "I just thought it might help figure out what's wrong. Like if you two were having problems."

"Us! Having problems! The only problem we have, Detective, is that we don't have anything!" He stared in horror as tears came to her eyes. "I don't know why I ever thought there we did. I'm so stupid."

He reached out and patted her arm awkwardly. "I guess I shouldn't've brought it up."

She slapped his hand away. "Correct, Detective. I see your incredible tact is at work once again. God, and I didn't think anyone could be more irritating than Detective Vecchio."

*Vecchio. Vecchio. I'm so sick of that name* Suddenly Ray just wanted to sleep, to shut out the world and his confusion and Thatcher's nagging voice. "I'm sorry, Inspector," he said coldly. "I'll talk to Fraser in the morning."

"Thank you kindly, Detective," she said sarcastically, then ducked her head and hurried away, sniffling softly.

Ray shook his head. *Insane. The whole world's falling apart. Where the hell did Dief get to?*

***

He clamped the pillow over his ears. "Go away!" he groaned, but the insistent rapping continued. Ray lay still and hoped whoever it was would think he had died and would leave. No such luck. The door creaked open a crack.

"Ray?" asked a cheerful voice, muffled by the pillow.

Ray groaned again and rolled over. "Fraser, what time is it? Wait, I don't even want to know. Just say what you came to say and get out."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Ray, but I thought you might be hungry. Breakfast is over, but I saved you some toast."

Fraser stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. "I just tucked it into my pocket for safe-keeping." There was a pause and a discouraging crunching noise.

"Oh dear," he said, removing his crumb-covered hand from his pocket. "My apologies, Ray." "No problem, Frase." He sighed and sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bunk. There was a startled yelp from Diefenbaker. "Sorry, pal."

"I believe we'll be docking shortly. You might want to get dressed."

Ray stretched, arching his back, and made a face. "I feel like I slept in one of those hammocks after all. So do we get some time off or what?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't spoken with Inspector Thatcher yet." Fraser stopped. A frown passed over his handsome features.

Ray winced as he remembered his encounter with the Inspector on the deck the night before. No wonder Fraser was frowning. "Uh... I talked to her last night."

Fraser eyed him. "Oh?"

"She was a little worried about you, actually." Ray stood up and reached for the worn green sweater lying on the floor. *How come I'm stuck with this old thing and Fraser gets a spiffy new red suit?*

"I can't imagine why," said Fraser, turning and placing his hand on the doorknob. "I'm going to go pack up my things and prepare for docking."

"What things?" Ray's words were muffled as he pulled on the sweater. "Look, she wanted me to talk to you and make sure everything's okay."

"Everything is fine, Ray. I'm fine. We're fine." The Mountie opened the door and left without meeting Ray's gaze.

Ray grabbed his pants -- *that guy's pants* he corrected -- and slipped into them, then followed his partner. "Fraser, wait up." He hurried down the corridor. Fraser was slumped on the stairs. *Slumping. What is this world coming to?*

"Look Fraser, I think I know what this is about."

Fraser looked up, eyes widening. "You do?"

Ray nodded. "Victoria."

One eyebrow arched. "Victoria?"

"I read the files, I know all about her and you. You and her. Whatever. So you uh... rebuffed the dragon lady cause you're still nuts about Victoria."

"She told you?" Fraser stared.

"Uh, not in so many words but yeah, I figured it out. Last night, right? Okay I don't really blame you, she kinda scares me too. So I'll tell her Victoria's on your mind. She'll be a little upset maybe, then she'll forget about it. Problem solved."

"I didn't realize there was a problem to solve."

"She wants to be sure you're fit to go back on duty when our break is over."

Fraser nodded slowly, then stood up with a sigh. "I really do need to pack." He looked around. "Where's Dief?"

"Beats me. Oh... actually I might have accidentally locked him in my room." Ray dismissed it. "So that's it. Somehow this case reminded you of Victoria, you're mourning, you'll get over it. No big deal, right?"

"Right." Fraser avoided Ray's gaze. "I'd better go get Dief."

*I've gotta agree with Thatcher for once. He is acting weird. So maybe I'm wrong. But if he's not pining for Victoria, then who...?* He followed the Mountie back down the corridor. Fraser pushed the door open, releasing a sulking wolf. "Sorry Dief." The animal pointedly ignored him.

"Come, Dief. I'll see you when we dock, Ray."

"Sure." *I need some time to think. Maybe he just needs a vacation. Lord knows I do* He shuddered as the boat shifted and once again he was back in the sinking tanker. *Water, water everywhere... how does that poem go?* His vision dims and the last thing he can remember is Fraser, a ghostly figure in red, floating towards him. A cold hand on his chilled cheek. The hot breath searing his lips, his throat, his lungs, filling him with life. Eyes flutter open to see Fraser's concerned face. *I'm alive* It wasn't until afterwards, when he'd had a chance to realize exactly what had happened, that it hit him how much he needed his partner.

The boat tilted again and he stumbled against the door, hitting it hard and slipping to the floor, jolted sharply back to the present. He groaned and rested his head in his hands. *Don't think about it. You need him as a partner. As a friend* But he couldn't block it out. The closeness of the sub, their bodies pressed together. *No* It was too late.

*He's pining for me*

***

Ray shifted from foot to foot, waiting for the Lieutenant to finish his phone conversation.

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, that's right. No anchovies. Thanks." Welsh looked up at Ray. "Can I help you, Detective?"

"I uh... I changed my mind about the transfer, sir."

"What?"

"I want to take the transfer."

Welsh shook his head. "Sorry, Detective, you're too late. Besides, Constable Fraser will be remaining, attached as a liaison to the..."

"Too late? Come on, I've earned this."

"Listen to me, Detective. I doubt I'm going to be able to find yet another officer willing to work around the Mountie's eccentricities. The two of you are a team. He stays, you stay." Welsh gave a final nod and turned his attention to the stack of papers on his desk.

"But sir..."

"I thought you were on vacation." Welsh didn't look up.

"Yeah." Ray scowled and left Welsh's office, allowing himself the minor pleasure of slamming the door behind him. *Great. Now what? Unless I can convince Fraser to take his transfer, we're stuck with each other* He slouched out to his car, giving Frannie a wave as he went. *Still have to talk to Thatcher* He started the car. *I'll drop by the Consulate and kill two birds with one stone. Two Canadians with one stone*

***

Turnbull greeted him at the front desk. "Good afternoon, Detective Vecchio. If you'd like to wait a moment, I'll go tell Constable Fraser that you're here."

"Thanks Turnbull, but actually, I need to talk to Inspector Thatcher."

"Inspector Thatcher?" Turnbull's eyes widened. "She's out." He looked around then whispered conspiratorially, "On a date."

"A date?" *The dragon lady? Huh. Oh well, better bite the bullet and talk to Fraser* "Well nice chattin' with you, Turnbull," he said, walking past him towards Fraser's office/bedroom, ignoring the young man's protestations.

"Fraser?" *God, I do not want to do this*

Fraser was nowhere in sight, but Ray could hear a faint murmuring. After a puzzled moment, he opened the closet. Fraser spun around. "Oh. Hello Ray." Looking slightly embarrassed, he stepped out and shut the closet door. Ray moved back nervously. *Relax*

"Mind if I ask what you were doing in there?" *Do I really want to know?*

Fraser paused. "Meditating."

"Of course. Meditating. In a closet. Should have known. Some Inuit thing, right? I didn't know they could fit closets in those igloos." *You're rambling* "Yeah, stupid me, I know they have actual houses now, right?" *Shut up, shut up*

"How can I help you, Ray?"

Ray started to speak but met Fraser's blue gaze and had to stop. *Calm down. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe it is Victoria* He tried again. "I wanted to ask you again about the transfer."

"Why? Have you changed your mind?"

Ray averted his eyes. "I dunno. Maybe. But that's not why I'm asking." He interlocked his fingers to keep them from tapping nervously on the desk. "So Thatcher thinks you can't concentrate cause stuff around here reminds you of Victoria. Although why that wouldn't have affected you a long time ago, I don't know. But maybe you oughta take the transfer. Get away from your memories." Fraser was still standing behind his small desk. Ray glanced at him and perched on the edge of it. "So?"

"I'm not taking the transfer." He hesitated. "This has nothing to do with Victoria. She was a mistake."

*Nothing to do with Victoria. Oh God. Then...* Ray took a deep breath. *I have to do this. I have to. Besides, he'll take the transfer, you'll never see him again. Never have to face that blue stare. Okay. Here goes* Ray turned to face him. "Look, Frase, we've got to talk." He took a deep breath. Fraser was staring at him politely, obviously puzzled. The wide-eyed naivet wasn't going to make this any easier. He looked around, making sure Turnbull wasn't within earshot. "I..." he paused and tried again. "I know how you feel about me." Fraser started to interrupt, but he plowed on. "I know you said nothing had changed between us, after that..." he swallowed, "...that thing on the boat, but you've been acting kinda weird lately. So I just wanted to say I know how you feel, but I'm not like that. Um... no offense or anything. I'm strictly for the ladies, me." He stopped and turned away to escape Fraser's piercing eyes. "So uh... let's just drop it, okay? I'm just saying maybe you should take the transfer."

There was a long pause. "Ray..." began Fraser, but Ray interrupted.

"Just drop it, okay?" he repeated, straightening up and walking towards the door. *I didn't know just how awkward that was gonna be. I thought I did. But it was a thousand times worse* He wanted to get as far away as possible, to escape the unbearably thick tension. But Fraser followed.

"Ray, this is important," protested the Mountie. He waited until Ray had stopped, leaning against the door frame.

"What? What's so important?"

Fraser licked his lip nervously. "It was very considerate of you to say those things. If I did indeed have... those feelings for you, it would have been best to clear the air."

Ray looked up, horrified. "If? If? What're you talking about, Fraser? Those times you've been staring at me, all those times you touch me when you don't need to -- I can climb just fine by myself, thanks! -- and that thing you were doing with your mouth..." He broke off. Flushed a deep red. "Don't tell me this is all in my head, Fraser."

Fraser had been shifting anxiously from foot to foot. "Ordinarily I have problems finding the right words, when relationships are the topic of discussion," he said. He paused. "At least, when it comes to women." A faint blush passed over his face. "But I think we should discuss this, if we are to remain partners."

"Which is why I'm saying you oughta rethink taking that transfer, Fraser. Unless you want to have a freak for a partner." Ray slumped. "What the hell was I thinking?" He looked up. "Come on, I didn't imagine all of it. What about that look you were giving me in the sub?"

Fraser sighed. "That wasn't what you think, Ray. Although it would require quite a lengthy explanation to convince you of that."

"So convince me. I'm desperate." *Convince me, damnit, and prove just how big of an idiot I really am*

"I was looking at my father."

"Your dead father."

"Yes Ray."

"You're seeing ghosts, and I'm the one who's screwed up?" exclaimed Ray, flinging his hands into the air. "Forget it. Forget I ever said anything. I guess I was making it all up." As he pushed past his partner, heading down the hall, he was shocked to realize how empty he felt. How... disappointed. *No. It's not me, it was Fraser. Fraser was the one who was staring. The one who went back to save my life* He laughed bitterly. It couldn't be that he'd been seeing signs where there were none, because _he_ had feelings for Fraser. "No," he said aloud, walking faster. *Stella, think of Stella* he told himself. But that only made him think of all the reasons they'd split up. *Maybe this was one of them* Stella had been one of his best friends. Still would be, if she hadn't gotten so worked up over the divorce. But maybe they'd split up because that's all they could be. Friends. He shook his head violently. *This is nuts. Nuts. I'm imagining things because I'm under a lot of stress, that's all. I almost died, goddamnit* He passed the Inspector on her way in the door and made himself smile seductively, just to prove to himself that he did like women. She gave him a cold stare and shouldered past. He sighed. He'd never be able to face Fraser again.

Just as he stepped out of the Consulate, he felt something crash into the back of his knees, and tumbled down the steps. *What the hell ...?* Groggily, he opened his eyes to find Dief licking his face vigorously. "What do you think you're doing, wolf?" Ray propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see Fraser appear in the Consulate entrance.

"I'd like to apologize for his behavior." Fraser seemed unusually flustered.

*And why shouldn't he be? I've just practically come right out and told him I'm obsessed with him* Ray told himself with a groan.

Fraser had hurried down the stairs, and was extending a hand when suddenly he jerked it away and blushed bright red. "Excuse me," he mumbled, and stepped back.

Ray closed his eyes for a moment, wanting to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Then he got up, wincing as he felt fresh bruises forming on his already bruised back. "Look, I'm sorry Fraser. I'm not going to accuse you of..." He tried to think of a discreet way to finish the sentence and failed. "Forget what I said, okay? I don't mind a little help now and then."

"Yes Ray." Fraser was still staring at him. "Ray, I've been thinking."

"Well congratulations," said Ray as sarcastically as possible. He had a horrible feeling he might start to cry soon, and he wanted to be as far away from anyone, especially Fraser, by the time the tears started. "I gotta go."

"Ray, we need to talk." Fraser edged around him, blocking the path.

"Fine! Talk!" Ray tried hard not to blink.

Fraser licked his lip again. "It was hard for me, learning to work with a new partner. Ray Vecchio was my best friend. It took a while to learn to accept you." He paused, playing with his lanyard. "And to come to terms with my feelings."

*Feelings? What feelings?* Ray felt an irrational hope spring up within him.

"I was... relieved when I found out about your ex-wife. It meant that I was imagining things, that I did not have to deal openly with my emotions."

Ray stared at him. "So now we're both imagining things?" *Both of us?*

Fraser nodded.

"But if we're both imagining things..." Ray stopped and shook his head. *I am _not_ having this conversation* "Then we're obviously both in need of a shrink. Fine. I'll be sure to give one a call sometime. Look, Fraser, I'm tired. I've just nearly drowned, learned to swim, and fought pirates. I've gotta get some serious rest."

Fraser didn't move from his position blocking his path. "Listen to me Ray. Listen to what I'm saying." He looked pleadingly at him.

In spite of himself, Ray smiled. "I don't believe this. Your puppy-dog eyes win again." He sighed. "So are you serious? You're..." He stopped. "What about Victoria?"

"I believe the correct term is bisexual, Ray."

Ray shook his head disbelievingly. "I had no idea you knew words like that, Fraser." He met the Mountie's eyes as the implication of the words struck him. "You _are_? And you..." He couldn't finish, and tried again. "You have... feelings for me?" He could feel a smile starting to stretch his mouth, despite his attempts to hide it.

"And it would appear you feel the same way," Fraser said softly, lowering his eyes to his shiny boots.

Ray grinned suddenly. "Our very first case, I had to pry you off my inner thigh." He was relieved to see Fraser smile back. *I don't think I could have taken any more of that soap opera crap*

"That was an exceptional circumstance, Ray. I am not in the habit of pawing my fellow officers." He tilted his head with a grin. "And I seem to recall you once asked me if I found you attractive."

"If you were a woman!" Ray protested half-heartedly, still grinning. "What about Frannie?" he said suddenly. His grin grew. *She'll be heartbroken*

"I don't see that Francesca has anything to do with this. After all, she's not really your sister."

"But I'd kinda gotten the impression that you two had gotten ... um... intimate."

Fraser shook his head. "If we had, it would not be appropriate for me to comment."

"Jesus, Fraser, considering what we're talking about, I think you kinda owe me!"

"True enough." Fraser paused. "Fortunately, there is nothing to comment on." He cocked his head, pausing again. "But what about Stella?"

Ray nodded, his smile fading. "I think she always kinda suspected. I... I love her, Fraser, she's one of my best friends. Or used to be, before we split up. But I needed more, and she knew it."

"Have you told her?"

Ray shook his head. "I don't think I need to."

"If... if we choose to... to act on our feelings..." Here Fraser had to stop for a moment, wracked by a brilliant blush, "You'll have to tell her. You'll have to tell everyone."

"I know. Don't you think I've thought of that? Hell, in the last half hour, I've imagined coming out a hundred times. A thousand times. Besides, I think my folks kinda suspect too. And your parents are dead."

Fraser bit his lip hard. "Uh... actually, I suspect my dad knows."

"What? What are you talking about? Oh wait, the ghost thing. Right. Silly me." Ray was amazed that he was still able to think rationally. *If you call ghosts rational* And still able to speak, for that matter. He had just come out to his best friend, had just found out that his best friend, the man he loved, loved him back. *How can I just stand here? How can the world go on as usual? Where are the church bells and the little birds chirping and the rainbows?* He realized suddenly he had a huge stupid grin on his face. He leaned towards Fraser and took his arm. "Forget it. Tell me later. Right now, I don't feel like talking. We're on vacation, for once, and I don't think we should waste the time arguing about your delusions." *I can't believe I'm saying this. I can't believe it's so easy to say*

Fraser stared at him. "What are you suggesting, Ray?"

"You're absolutely infuriating!" he exclaimed. "Don't you care about what I've told you? Don't you remember how it felt in that sub? You've already admitted I wasn't the only one feeling it. Damn it, Fraser, I love you!" *I do* The full implications of his words struck him like a bolt of lightening. *I really love him*

This time the stupid grin was on Fraser's face. Ray grinned back. "So you're not made of stone." He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and kissed the Mountie gently on the lips. To his delight, Fraser wrapped his arms around him and kissed him back. "Wait..." he murmured, pulling away slightly. "Not here. I betcha the dragon lady wouldn't be too happy to catch you here."

Fraser stiffened. "Ray... that's something else I need to tell you."

"Not now. I don't care. Let's find us a room." He started to pull him towards his car, his heart soaring. *I've got Fraser. He's mine* He squeezed Fraser's arm, feeling his realness. *See, Stan ol' pal, this is real. He's real. This is really happening. God, I still can't believe it*

Fraser blinked and stood still. "I do need to tell you about Inspector Thatcher," he said seriously, although even he was unable to hide completely the smile on his face.

"Inspector Thatcher, Victoria, I don't care. I don't care if you've been in love with the entire female population of Chicago, as long as right now, you love me." Ray was surprised to find he meant it. "At least _you_ don't have an ex-wife."

"True enough." He turned Ray to face him. "I don't love them anymore. It was before I'd met you." He was rambling.

"I know." Ray smiled. "Besides, would you lie? I trust you when it comes to putting my life in mortal danger, so give me some credit. I trust you. I believe you."

"Thank you Ray." Fraser pulled him closer. "Now what were you saying about a room..?"

Ray grinned. "There's hope for you yet, Frase," he said, embracing him and giving him a quick kiss, delighting at having the freedom to do so. *Although the front lawn of the Consulate might not be the best place* It was amazing how quickly it had all happened. There was no awkwardness at all. "Soulmates," he murmured.

Fraser squeezed him tightly. "It's like something someone told me once. Alone we're incomplete, but together, we're better than we are separate," he whispered in Ray's ear.

Ray heard the note of sadness. "Vecchio?" he asked softly, and felt Fraser nod. "Did he know?"

He felt Fraser nodding. "He is..." he paused, "...was, my best friend. I had to tell him."

*Vecchio again. Oh no...* Ray drew back, stared Fraser in the eye. "Did you... did you love him?" Fraser was silent. *No. Oh come _on_, Fraser!* "Did you _love_ him?" he repeated, his voice getting louder. Fraser hesitated for a long time. Ray turned, slammed his fist into the metal gate. *Ow* "That postcard. 'Heat me up.' God, I'm so stupid." He spun back around to face his partner. "I'm just a replacement for him, aren't I? Admit it. Come on, admit it!" He realized too late that he was shouting, just as he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Vecchio, what's going on here?" Ray turned to face the Lieutenant, who was staring at him, a puzzled expression on his face. "I thought we'd been through this, Detective."

"Yes sir." Ray's mind raced. *What the hell is he doing here? And how long has he been standing there?* He glanced at Fraser, who looked tense but not overly embarrassed. *Bastard* he thought furiously.

"I know you don't like being a replacement. But hearing you broadcast it to the entire neighbourhood... if you can convince Constable Fraser to transfer out of Chicago, the transfer is yours. So you can get your own life back. Make a new one. Whatever." Welsh stared at him. "Or maybe you just need a vacation a lot more than I thought. I'd hate to lose a good officer." He glanced at Fraser. "Two good officers."

Ray nodded. "Sir," he said noncommittally. He glanced at Fraser again. The Mountie was staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Lieutenant,"

Ray winced at the pronunciation even as he waited anxiously to hear Fraser's words.

"Ray was just a little shaken up after the events of the past few days. We both just need a little time to recuperate."

"Well then lucky for you you're both on vacation. At least I hope you are, Constable. That's what I'm here to talk to Inspector Thatcher about." He patted Fraser on the shoulder. "Talk some sense into your partner, Constable." Amazingly, he smiled. "You two deserve a break." Then he leaned closer to Ray, his habitual scowl returning. "And you, for one, most definitely need one."

Ray didn't bother answering. *I don't need a vacation, I need to lock myself in a padded room until the world makes sense again*

"Thank you kindly, Lieutenant." Fraser gave a forced smile, then shook his head with a slight frown. "The Inspector isn't here, sir."

Welsh sighed heavily. "Figures. The one day I decide to drive over, enjoy the sunshine, she isn't in." He nodded at the two men and turned back towards his car.

Fraser watched him politely until the Lieutenant was out of sight, the older man glancing back a few times over his shoulder and frowning slightly as he went. Then he turned his attention back to Ray. He rested his hands on Ray's shoulders. "Listen to me, _Stan_," he emphasized. "You are _not_ a replacement for Raymond Vecchio. I loved him like a brother. I love you..." He blushed again, dropping his eyes, but keeping his hands firmly on his partner.

Ray felt hope stirring once again. "You... you mean it?" The dark suspicious corners of his mind whispered to him. *He's playing you for a fool*

"Would I lie to you, Ray?"

*No. He wouldn't. I wouldn't believe anyone else who told me something like that, but I believe him* He smiled as the whispers died away. "Not likely." Slowly, he raised his hands to cover Fraser's, and squeezed them gently. "I can't believe this is happening."

To his intense delight, Fraser smiled a slow, beautiful smile and leaned towards him. "Believe it," he murmured, pressing his lips against Ray's, pulling him close, and they stood, locked in a tight embrace, oblivious to the traffic in the street and the world around them.