Pairings: Fraser/Kowalski
Ratings: PG-13 for m/m themes.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Alliance owns dueSouth and its characters.
This is fanfic. No profit, no problem, eh?
Summary: On the longest night of the year, Fraser's burdens
weigh heavily on him. Can be viewed as a sequel to
"As A Friend", or read alone.
Feedback: Yes! All kinds except flames welcome.
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SandSteinr@aol.com
It is cold. I'm cold. My boots crunch on the broken glass and ice particles dusting the floor of this abandoned building. Our chosen concealment for tonight's stakeout is in very poor repair. The heat has gone the way of the lights and the plumbing, both long ago, years before Ray and I ever happened upon this sorry facade. In the corners, snow lays piled in dingy little drifts.
Not the best location in which to talk of personal subjects, perhaps, but I can think of none better. At least we are on neutral ground, so to speak. If the worst happens, retreat will be a simple matter for either of us.
Ray Kowalski stands by a boarded up window an arm's length away, peering through the cracks into the alley below. The harsh street-light paints a bar of white across his face, turning his normally blue gaze silver. The constant motion that usually incorporates his body is now taken up by the stamping of feet and the slapping of arms as he tries to keep warm. Ray has made good use of the layering system, this winter. I can count no less than five layers on my partner's torso, plus the thick leather gloves and a voluminous scarf.
My single concession to the bitter cold is the addition of a light scarf to my uniform and overcoat. Canadian that I am, I am expected to have a certain resistance to the cold. But the winter has been uncharacteristically harsh this year, and I have felt the cold seeping into my bones for weeks. Or perhaps it is simply a sign of advancing age.
Shaking myself from my thoughts, I go over to my pack and take out a silver thermos flask. I offer it to Ray. "Would you like some coffee?"
"Nah, Frase. I'm good." Ray continues his surveillance with hardly a glance.
I set down the thermos and pass my fingers over my brow, needing the comfort the gesture provides. I will have to do better than this, or I will never come to what I need to say tonight. Mustering my courage, I station myself at the window next to Ray's, standing less than a foot from him. Despite his layers, I can feel a warmth radiating from him that serves only to accentuate the cold.
"Did you know it's the winter solstice tonight, Ray? The longest night of the year."
"No, I did not know that, Fraser." Ray's tone of voice indicates that not only does he not know, he doesn't care.
I discard the informative lecture I'd been about to begin with a small sigh. That isn't what I need to say either. I have gone over this scenario or one like it a hundred times in my cot at night. I have practiced endlessly, until I know every phrase, every possible response, by heart. Now, faced with the moment of truth, I cannot remember a single word.
It is almost enough to make me wish for my father, to goad me into speaking. I close my eyes for a few seconds. If I do not say something tonight, my soul will freeze over. I have to tell Ray, and I have to tell him now.
"Ray. Ray, would you look at me for a moment? There's... there is something I'd like to say to you."
"Sure, Frase." Ray turns to face me, leaning on the windowsill with his arms folded across his chest. "What's on your mind?"
"Ray, I'm gay."
My most deeply held secret, blurted gracelessly, clumsily, in a freezing cold, abandoned building on the darkest night of the year. I brace myself for Ray's reaction. Rage, disgust, a stream of invective from his mouth, or a blow from his fist.
Ray freezes, going perfectly still for a long, agonizing moment. Then he relaxes with an odd look on his face, one that might almost be termed -- affectionate. "I wondered when you were gonna tell me."
My jaw drops. "You knew?" I cannot encompass the thought. Where is the rage I have been expecting? The hatred? The revulsion I'd once witnessed in another pair of eyes? Ray Kowalski meets my exclamation with hardly a shrug.
"Never thought about it much. I mean, I sorta wondered sometimes. You're so --" He waves his hand at me, taking in my upright posture, my uniform and Stetson. "Y'know, you. I thought maybe you weren't interested in, uh, that stuff, at all."
It is not surprising that Ray would think so, but I need to disabuse him of that notion. "No, Ray. I am not celibate by nature, simply by choice."
"Yeah, I got that. Not easy being a gay Mountie."
"Is it so obvious?"
"No." Ray shakes his head in a definite negative. "If anyone had asked me a minute ago, I would've said you were straight, like an arrow." He slices his hand through the air in front of his face in demonstration. Then he squares his shoulders, a slow grin crossing his features. "But it makes sense, y'know? You bein' gay. You said that, and you looked..."
"How did I look?" I have never been more impatient with Ray's loss for words.
"You looked -- look -- right. Like you fit in your own skin, for the first time ever."
"Yes. Yes, exactly." What delicious relief it is, to have Ray understand.
"Yeah." Ray's smile has softened, and his eyes... his eyes have gone from silver to gold.
Oh, dear. I think perhaps Ray has understood more than I intended. He takes a step nearer to me.
Suddenly, I am warm.
END
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