Due South and all of its characters belong to Alliance Communications.

Story page: http://www.geocities.com/callinuk

OK - this is sappy. But hey its nearly Valentine's Day, and I couldn't resist. Hope you enjoy!

This is for Bonnie because she loves Ray and Fraser.

BE MY VALENTINE

Grabbing for his third cup of coffee, Ray Kowalski surveyed his untidy desk groaning under his breath. His broken wrist had meant that he was stuck at his desk clearing up paperwork and filing for the other detectives. Ray was miserable and his wrist ached; Fraser was busy at the Consulate so he had no-one to help or keep him company. It was just him, the computer and piles of paperwork.

He glared at the plaster cast; it felt big and clumsy and he kept knocking it making his wrist hurt. "You shouldn't have been in such an all fired hurry to see Fraser," he cursed himself silently. "Then you wouldn't be stuck here with paperwork from hell."

On Sunday afternoon, Ray had been in a hurry to meet Fraser and had tripped falling down the stairs in his apartment building. Ray had shrugged off the pain and uncomfortable feeling not really paying much attention to the swelling or the bruising. He had vaguely noticed that the pain in his wrist had steadily increased as he drove and had ended up driving one handed. Running up the steps to the Consulate, Ray had only managed a short greeting before he had collapsed in Fraser's arms. Ray had woken up in the emergency room with a worried looking Fraser watching him, and his right wrist encased in a temporary soft plaster cast.

Ray scowled at the plaster cast - once the swelling in his wrist had reduced, the soft cast had been exchanged for a hard more bulky one. Ray sighed taking another sip of his coffee as he turned back to his paperwork; he began to type the report into the computer using one finger, resting his aching right wrist on the pile of paperwork trying to relieve the pain.

"Package for you Kowalski," the Desk Sergeant placed a long gold coloured box tied elaborately with a red ribbon on his desk.

Ray looked up confused. "Ya sure it's for me?" he asked fingering the box.

"Yep," the Sergeant replied. "Courier left it for you at the front desk. See," she pointed to the card on the box. "Even got your name on it."

"Oh," Ray still looked puzzled.

"Is it a surprise that someone loves you?" the Sergeant grinned as she turned away from the desk. "But then Valentine's Day does that to people. Makes them love the unloveable."

"Hardy ha ha," Ray replied. "Funny. Real funny." He stared down at the box; he had forgotten it was Valentine's Day. It had been a long time since he had bought, that alone, received a Valentine's Day gift. Stella had hated it when he bought her red roses, saying that it was a waste of money and a lot of hype over something silly and childish. Hadn't stopped him buying her a single red rose every year of their married life though.

"Who'd wanna send you a gift?" Ray asked himself as he picked up the card and studied it carefully. No hand-writing so there was no clue to the sender there. He carefully opened the box uncovering the layer of tissue covering the gift.

Ray sat back gazing down at the carved wooden spoon nestling in the soft red tissue paper. The bowl of the spoon was smooth and plain; it was the handle that was intricately carved. He ran his bruised fingers gently along the spoon marvelling at the work that had gone into the spoon.

Ray grabbed for his glasses hooking them on his nose so he could study the spoon more closely. The handle had two plain hearts at the top which were connected to the spoon's bowl by a series of delicately carved leaves and chain links intertwined with each other, making up the body of the handle. A small ship's anchor nestled in the leaves.

"Hey," Francesca leaned over his shoulder picking up the box. "This is really neat. A Welsh Love Spoon," she smiled at Ray. "So come on. You keeping secrets from yer sister? Who sent it to you?"

"A Welsh Love Spoon?" he said as he took the box back setting it carefully on the desk. "Is that what it is? And I don't know who sent it."

"Really," Francesca smiled. "That is so cool. A proper Valentine's gift. How romantic. Oh you lucky thing." Francesca folded her arms cocking her head to one side. "I only got the flowers you sent me," she grinned as Ray flushed.

"Frannie," Ray raised his eyes in exasperation pointing at the box trying to cover up his embarrassment and shyness at sending Francesca flowers. "So this is a Welsh Love Spoon?"

"Yeah," Francesca perched on the edge of the desk. "My Gran was given one by an admirer when she was young. My Ma still has it." She pointed at the box and the spoon. "Each bit represents something."

"So what do these mean?" Ray asked picking up the spoon carefully in his good hand lightly touching the delicate handiwork.

Francesca frowned screwing up her face in thought. "Can't really remember. But I do know that each spoon is unique. It was meant to be carved by a lover for a lover or something like that."

"Oh," Ray looked back to the spoon. "So how will I know what each thingy means?"

Francesca hopped off the desk. "Yer the detective," she grinned as she tapped the computer. "So detect." She leaned forward kissing him lightly on the cheek. "And the flowers were a lovely thought. Thank you Ray."

"No problem Frannie," Ray flushed again shyly as he turned back to gaze at the spoon in his hand as Francesca made her way back to her desk. "Yer the detective," he mimicked as he placed the spoon back in the box. "So detect," Ray stared at his computer screen deep in thought.

Half an hour later, Ray had all the information that he needed. He had looked up Welsh Love Spoons on the internet, and had found a very useful site explaining the history and legends behind the Love Spoons.

He looked back down at his untidy notes; the plaster cast made it difficult to write, and his handwriting was scruffier than usual:

Welsh Love Spoons

Welsh tradition dating back to the 17^th century where spoons were developed from the Cawl (soup) spoon. Lovingly created from a single piece of wood (usually sycamore), the spoons were given as a token of affection and love. It was thought that the giving of a spoon signalled the beginning of a serious courtship.

Ray looked back to his spoon. He had sat open mouthed as he had read what the symbols on his spoon meant. He re-read his scrawled notes:

Two hearts: Symbol of love or we feel the same about each other

Leaves: Growing love

Chain links: The links between two lovers

Anchor: Steadfastness or my love is safe with you or home to stay

"Oh wow," Ray let out a breath. He also had a sneaking feeling that he knew who had sent him the Love Spoon. "About time," he grinned to himself as he shrugged carefully into his jacket, struggling with the bulky cast. Carefully tucking the box under his arm, Ray signed off duty making his way quickly towards the parking lot.

**************

"Good evening Detective," Turnbull smiled as Ray entered the Consulate three hours later. "Welcome to Canada."

"Hiya Turnbull," Ray grinned back. "He in?" he nodded towards Fraser's office.

"No," Turnbull replied. "Constable Fraser had to run some errands for Inspector Thatcher. He won't be long. I am sure he won't mind you waiting in his office."

"Thanks," Ray smiled at the young Constable before heading along the corridor to Fraser's office.

Closing the door behind him, Ray made himself comfortable in Fraser's chair, his feet on the desk. He laid the box with the spoon carefully on the desk, the lid off revealing the contents. His other purchases he laid gently in a drawer that he left half open. He smiled pleased with himself.

Half an hour later, Fraser entered his office stopping in his tracks at the sight of Ray sitting at his desk. Diefenbaker, on seeing his favourite American, barked in delight as he jumped up Ray demanding attention.

"Hiya Frase," Ray said as he ruffled Diefenbaker's soft fur affectionately. The wolf whined in pleasure licking Ray's injured hand. "Feels better," Ray answered the wolf absently. Satisfied Diefenbaker settled at Ray's feet, his head on his paws.

"Good evening Ray," Fraser said, his eyes darting to the desk noticing the open box with the gift he had spent two months carving for Ray. "Oh dear," he thought to himself. Part of him had wanted Ray to know that the Love Spoon was from him, but another part was frightened of revealing his feelings of love, afraid that Ray would be disgusted by him.

Ray couldn't resist a small grin; he had been right - the Love Spoon was from Fraser. It was written all over his face. Fraser was staring transfixed at the box, the colour in his face slowly rising to match his red serge. "So ya still collecting the Ice Queen's dry cleaning?" Ray couldn't help teasing.

Fraser dragged his eyes away from the desk to look at Ray. "No," he replied trying to calm his breathing and pounding heart. "I was collecting some printing that the Inspector had ordered for the Consulate Summer Ball."

"Oh," Ray grinned mischievously. "So who's gonna be yer dance partner at this Summer Ball?"

Fraser flushed again placing his stetson on the desk near to the open box. "I am sure that I won't be dancing," Fraser replied calmly. "I shall be on duty."

"Oh," Ray grinned again. "Shame. Bet you dance real nice," he raised his eye brows seductively, nearly laughing out loud when he heard Fraser catch his breath.

Fraser shifted from foot to foot as he studied Ray - he didn't look angry or upset; he looked happy and relaxed. He hesitantly smiled back at Ray wishing that he hadn't taken leave of his senses and sent the gift to his friend. But he hadn't been able to help himself - he had fallen in love with Ray and foolishly hoped that one day Ray would reciprocate his feelings. "Stupid Mountie. Stupid Mountie," he chanted in his head.

Ray smiled again as he pointed at the open box. "Do ya know what this Spoon represents?" He knew that Fraser wouldn't be able to lie, that he would answer the question truthfully.

Fraser hung his head, biting at his bottom lip nervously. Lifting his head, Fraser stared directly at Ray. Yes," he answered, his voice wavering slightly. "But Ray.... I didn't..... I'm so ... It was a..... I'm so sorry....., " he started to babble.

"Frase," Ray lifted his good hand halting Fraser mid-babble. He fumbled in the desk drawer with his injured hand. "Do ya know what this represents?"

Fraser stared at the single yellow rose Ray was holding out to him, and his heart dropped. "Yes Ray," his voice quiet. "A yellow rose represents friendship."

Ray nodded still smiling as he offered Fraser the rose. Fraser moved forward taking the rose, not being able to resist sniffing the delicate aroma. "Do ya know what this represents?" Ray asked again.

Fraser looked up from his study of the yellow rose. This time his heart soared. "Yes," he smiled, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "A red rose represents love," he took the offered rose.

"Yeah," Ray stood up advancing on Fraser. "And so it should. Because I just spent the last three hours combing the city of Chicago for a florist that still had some red roses. This is Valentine's Day ya know?"

"Yes Ray," Fraser interrupted smiling. "I did know. We have Valentine's Day in Canada too."

"Frase," Ray protested. "I am telling a romantic story here. Do I interrupt yer stories?" He put his hand up as Fraser went to open his mouth. "Nah don't answer that."

"Understood," Fraser smirked.

Ray tried to glare at Fraser, but it turned into a grin. "Well. After driving around for hours, I found this little florist that still had some roses. These two roses," he fingered the delicate flowers in Fraser's hand. "And I thought that they kinda fitted together in a Valentine's Day sorta way. Like it was meant to be or something," he smiled shyly at Fraser.

"I don't understand," Fraser looked puzzled as he studied the two roses in his hand.

Ray stepped closer to Fraser until they were almost touching. "Well the yellow one here is called The City of Chicago. And this little red one," he touched the delicate red petals with his uninjured hand. "Is called Queen Elizabeth II. You know red represents the Queen. So I thought the roses were sorta like you and me. As well as meaning love and friendship."

"Ahhh," Fraser beamed. "Now I understand."

Ray shrugged. "Kinda silly huh?"

"Oh no," Fraser shook his head. "I think it's a wonderful story. You and me. Love and friendship."

"Nice huh?" Ray smiled, his eyes lighting up as he looked up at Fraser. "But not as nice as my spoon."

Fraser beamed. "How did you know that I sent the spoon?" he asked curious. "I made sure that the gift was completely anonymous."

"I detected," Ray grinned, his pale eyes sparkling. "Who else would send me such a beautiful and thoughtful gift, but somebody that I love."

"You love me?" Fraser asked astounded, not being able to disguise the surprise in his voice.

"Yeah," Ray smiled bashfully "And according to my spoon, you love me too. And the spoons never lie."

"You know what the symbols on the spoon mean?" Fraser asked incredulous. Not wanting to spoil the moment, Fraser decided to leave asking how Ray knew that he loved him until some other time. He was sure that they would have plenty of time to talk - the rest of their lives, if he had his way.

"Yeah," Ray replied. "See not as dumb as I look."

"I never thought you were dumb," Fraser scolded lightly. "I am just surprised that you know about the Love Spoons and their traditions."

"OK, "Ray admitted. "So I had help. I looked up the meanings up on the internet. But I got there in the end. And if my information is right. You giving me a spoon means that we're gonna start a serious relationship. Right?"

"Yes Ray," Fraser smiled. "And I have always thought that the use of technology is a wonderful thing," Fraser murmured as he leant forward claiming Ray's lips in a gentle kiss.

"Aint that the truth," Ray moaned as he leant into the kiss.

Their first kiss was tender and hesitant; Fraser, still holding the roses, wrapped his arms around Ray pulling him closer deepening the kiss.

Breathless they broke from their first kiss smiling at each other. "You are so beautiful," Fraser murmured. "Just like your rose," he handed the yellow rose to Ray. "City of Chicago," Fraser whispered as he caressed his hands through Ray's blonde spikes.

"Nah," Ray flushed at the compliment. "Yer the pretty one. Just like your red rose," Ray ran his bruised fingers down Fraser's red serge as he leaned forward claiming Fraser's lips again in a gentle kiss.

"So," Ray murmured in Fraser's ear. "You gonna be... you know... my Valentine?"

"Yes Ray," Fraser replied. "Now and forever if you want."

"I want," Ray grasped Fraser's hand pulling him towards the door. "So you. Me. Dief. My spoon," he grinned at Fraser as he picked up the box tucking it safely under his arm. "And our roses are gonna blow this joint and go back to my place. And do traditional Valentine Day sorta things."

"And what sort of things would they be Ray?" Fraser asked, a hopeful look on his face.

"You'll see," Ray waggled his eye brows seductively as he bounded towards the entrance hall.

"Understood," Fraser said as he eagerly followed Ray along the corridor.

THE END

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