Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply. Alliance owns them, no money made, yadda yadda yadda. I'm poor so don't sue.

Thanks to my betas Maxine, Sandy, and Kim. Never be afraid to nit-pik.

Warnings: Spoilers for "Mountie Sings the Blues" and "Good for the Soul."

Feedback to: tci100@psu.edu

Song for A Winter's Night

by Terri Botta 1999

Part 1: The Lark

Tracy Jenkins was gone, all that was left of the case was the paperwork. It was late, and the squad room was deserted except for Ray and Fraser and Dief, and Welsh yakking on the phone, yelling at somebody through his closed office door. Ray was sifting through some notes when a question came to his mind.

"Fraser?"

"Yes, Ray?" came the immediate reply. The voice was soft, but interested, and Ray shuddered, remembering the sound of that voice when it sang: beautiful, sultry…

//Good thing there were other people around or I mighta forgot myself and jumped him,// Ray thought to himself. //I told him he sang like a bird and he looked so happy and excited when he said "Really?", like nobody'd ever complimented him about anything before, and I had to make a joke out of it or I woulda said too much.//

"How'd you know Jenkins went to see them talent lawyers?"

He heard Fraser clear his voice. "Well, it was a simple matter of deduction, Ray. I knew Wilkinsen, Howett and Summerly were located in the Stratenger Building, and that Ms. Jenkins had gone to the Stratenger Building to see what she claimed were divorce lawyers. Now, granted, she did lie regarding what type of lawyers she went to see. However, once I knew she had visited a lawyer's office and what building the office resided in, it was easy to deduce who she had been to see and determine the nature of her business with them."

"Deduce. Only you would use a word like that Fraser," Ray teased. "So, how'd ya know she went to the Stratenger Building?"

"Well, I found a pine needle in her hair."

"Yeah, and?"

Fraser looked a bit awkward and he shifted on his feet slightly. The gesture set off a warning light in the back of Ray's head, like he should pay attention.

"Well, ahh…" Now there was the tell-tale brush across the eyebrow that made Ray watch Fraser like a hawk- discreetly of course.

//If he ever knew I'd figured that little gesture out, he'd get all self-conscious and close up tighter than a clam.//

"Well, you see, Ray. I happen to know that the Stratenger Building has a rather nice Northern Pine in its lobby, and the needles are quite… distinctive."

//Why didn't he want me to know that? Like it's such a big deal that they got a tree in their lobby. Wait a minute. Hmmm…//

"So, like, how'd ya know that? That they got a pine tree in the lobby?"

Another brush across the eyebrow. Ray narrowed his eyes. Fraser hated lying, but it was obvious that he really didn't want to answer the question.

"Are you hungry, Ray?"

//Benton Fraser Evasive Maneuver #1: Change the subject.//

"Starved."

"Shall we go get something to eat then? I admit I am somewhat hungry myself, and I am sure Diefenbaker would appreciate a meal as well."

The wolf barked in agreement.

"Yeah, sure. In a minute. I just gotta finish this."

"Of course, Ray."

Fraser relaxed a fraction, and Ray smiled to himself as he turned his attention to his report.

//Oh no, you're not getting off that easy.//

"So… the pine tree?" Ray asked after a moment.

"What pine tree, Ray?"

"The one in the Stratenger Building."

He heard Fraser clear his throat again. "What about it, Ray?"

"How'd ya know it was there?"

Fraser cracked his neck, which really made Ray pay attention.

"I... uhh… go there sometimes…"

Ray looked up and met the Mountie's eyes. He had that embarrassed look on his face, the one he got when he was forced to reveal something about himself, something under the mask, something… //Oh…//

"'Coz it reminds you of home?" he asked, taking the chance that, as usual, his instincts were on the mark.

Fraser blinked, taken back, as if he was surprised at the depth of Ray's understanding and his willingness to admit it. Then again, Ray had never shown any reticence towards showing his feelings.

"Y… Yes, Ray. The tree does remind me of home."

"So, you like, go there when you're homesick and missing the Northern Areas, and ya can't go camping in a park." He said the name wrong on purpose to ease the tension.

"Northwest Territories, Ray. And yes, I go there sometimes when I need…"

The Mountie got that pained look on his face again, like somebody was crushing his finger in a thumbscrew or sticking him with a hot poker. Ray hated that look. He never knew if it was there because Fraser was so damned insistent on being perfect or because somebody'd beat it into Fraser's head that he wasn't supposed to have feelings. Either way, he thought it sucked.

//Hell, he's thousands of miles away from home, stuck being the Ice Queen's errand boy and hanging out with me. He's allowed to be homesick, for crissakes!//

"Hey, Frase. It's OK. Yer allowed to be homesick," he comforted.

Fraser blinked at him again, and Ray had to look away. The feelings were too close to the surface now. He ached for his friend who was so far from home.

//But if he was in Canada, he wouldn't be here with me and I'd be the one who'd be sick and lonely. God, that first Christmas without Stella…//

"I mean… I know what it's like to be away from the things ya love… An' you can tell me, ya know? When yer homesick, I mean, 'coz it's OK. We’re partners, right?" Ray told him.

He gave Fraser a quick glance. Fraser was watching him with an almost shocked look on his face.

"Yes, Ray, we are," Fraser agreed, nodding.

Ray nodded back, looking away again, getting his desk in order. "And partners share. So you can tell me when yer homesick. I'll understand."

He stood and looked at Fraser. The other man was staring at him as if Ray'd grown a second head, and he swallowed, feeling like he'd just opened his mouth and stuck his foot right into it.

"OK, so's I can't really understand. I've never been up there and I don't understand how somebody can miss trekkin' through several feet of snow, or freezin' their butt off, or worryin' about gettin' eaten by bears and stuff…"

"Ray."

For once Ray stopped on the first utterance of his name, mostly because it was accompanied by Fraser's hand on his shoulder. He ventured a look back into the Mountie's baby blues.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

For a moment Ray swore he saw tears brimming in the corners of Fraser's eyes, and he ached to reach out.

//Yes. Let me in. It's OK to show me, tell me. You're safe with me. I won't hurt you, I promise.//

He remembered one of the suggestions given to him and Stella by a marriage counselor. Acting on impulse- if he'd had time to think it over, he would have declared himself completely nuts- he opened his arms.

"So... hug break?" he blurted hopefully.

Ray knew it was a mistake the moment the words left his mouth. Fraser stiffened, pulling back.

//Shit. Like I'm a leper or something.// It hurt, but he tried to hide it.

"Uh, sorry. Never mind. Dumb idea."

Ray let his arms drop back to his sides, turning to get his coat. After all, he hadn’t lied when Fraser asked, he really was hungry.

"Ah. No, Ray," he heard Fraser say in halting tones.

He paused, glancing at Fraser from the corner of his eye. There was something in the Mountie's expression, something in his eyes, something…

"It wasn't… I mean… I… uh…" Fraser brushed his knuckle across his eyebrow, twice.

"Yeah, Frase?" he asked, turning back around and seeing the war being waged on Fraser's face.

"What I mean is... What I’m trying to say is..."

"Spit it out, Frase."

"Ah, yes. Well... I… I would be honored to accept a hug from you."

It was said quickly as humanly possible while still sounding understandable and polite. About as quickly as someone would say if they were about to be eaten by a pack of wild boars.

Ray waited, giving Fraser a wary look. "You sure?"

Fraser stood at parade rest and nodded. If his expression hadn't been so serious, Ray would have laughed. "Yes, I'm sure."

Fraser didn't look sure. He looked like he was about to be shot.

"I mean, I would never wanna force ya…" //Force ya. Right. Just think of the double meaning there, Kowalski.//

"I'm quite sure, Ray."

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Ray took a step forward, watching Fraser's face. When Fraser didn't bolt or flinch away, he very carefully and very gently put his arms around the other man, wrapping one arm over the Mountie's shoulder and the other around his waist. Then he gave a little squeeze and a pat on the back.

"Just so y’know, whenever ya feel the need to smell pine... well, you just let me know, OK?" he whispered.

"Yes, Ray," Fraser sighed just before his entire body relaxed and his hands came up to hold Ray's shoulders as he encircled Ray with his arms.

It was brief, it lasted barely a moment, but it spoke volumes. Fraser had wanted to be hugged, he just hadn't known how to gracefully accept Ray's offer. Ray found himself cursing every person who had ever made the Mountie feel that he couldn't ask for affection. He was pulled in close, then released. Ray himself let go more slowly because it felt so good.

"Remember when I said you sang like a bird?" Ray said softly, still holding onto Fraser's body.

"Yes, Ray?"

"I meant like one of them songbirds, like a… a lark or a bluebird or something. Somethin' real pretty, that you like listenin' to."

There was a moment of silence, and Ray wanted to kick himself for being weak, for letting too much slip. //Great, Kowalski. You will now see Big Red's back as he goes high-tailing it outta here.//

"Thank you, Ray," Fraser finally answered, his voice oddly unsteady.

"Hey, I'm just telling it like it is."

Then Ray heard an oddly pained noise, but he couldn't see Fraser's face so he wasn't sure. He searched Fraser's face when the other man pulled away, but the Mountie-blank mask was firmly in place.

He ventured a smile, trying to see beyond mask to the man within, but Fraser had closed himself off again.

//Damn.// "Wanna go eat?"

"Yes, Ray, I'd like that very much," Fraser replied, getting himself under control.

Ray put a hand on Fraser's shoulder, guiding him, surprised that the Mountie was letting himself be led. "Great! Coz there's this Chinese place I know that's open real late. Serves the greatest food…"

"I trust your judgement, Ray."

The simple statement made Ray want to break out into a grin but he stopped himself.

//Enough sap for one night, Kowalski.//

Still, it was very hard to keep the smile from his face as he and Fraser walked to the car, Dief following happily behind.

*********

Part 2: Oh, Tannenbaum

Fraser was gazing fondly at the picture of himself with his parents. He couldn't have been more than five years old, wrapped in a warm coat, standing in the snow. He wondered where his father had gotten such a gift. It made him think about what things were possible in the afterlife.

It was Christmas day and all was quiet in the Consulate. The building was empty save for himself and Diefenbaker, and perhaps his father’s ghost- he wasn’t sure as the elder Fraser had yet to make an appearance- and he had no plans. He had turned down an invitation to dine at the Vecchios’ simply because dinner there without Ray Vecchio was bittersweet and difficult. Francesca would repeatedly throw herself at him in a number of ways, all with the encouragement of her family, and while he loved the woman as he would a sister- if he had one- he was not the least bit interested in her romantically.

No, lonely as he was, and homesick, he could not subject himself to that merely for the sake of company. In addition, there was the added complication of Ray Vecchio’s silence. No one had heard anything from him since he went undercover. Ray’s mother would look at Fraser sometimes, as if pleading for him to bring her some news about her Raimundo. But he had none to give. He had not heard from Ray either, and the knowledge pierced his heart.

There had been a time when he would gladly have accepted an overture from Francesca’s brother, for he had loved Ray Vecchio with a quiet longing and passion that never saw the light of day. Time, and distance, and the lack of word from Ray Vecchio had served to dull the ache, and he found that his longings had turned to Ray Vecchio’s replacement. It was different with Ray Kowalski, however. Fraser had no doubts that if he were to ever discover that Ray- Ray Kowalski- had an interest in men, and if he himself decided to take the risk of offering himself, the result would be the single most life-altering experience of his existence. Not only because it would be his first sexual relationship with another member of his own sex, but because Ray gave everything of himself in all things.

Ray, unlike Fraser, held nothing back, everything was there just under the surface waiting to be let out. Fraser knew that Ray would love with the same intensity that he did everything else in his life. Quiet and reserved himself, Ray’s fire frightened Fraser as much as it drew him. But Ray needed him as desperately as he needed to be needed. No one had ever needed Fraser the way Ray Kowalski did, and it touched him in places he had never been touched, opened up holes in his soul that he never knew existed until that confusing, infuriating, bewitching, wonderful man had come into his life.

Ray Vecchio had never needed him the way Ray Kowalski did, and he knew deep in his heart that his own neediness would have driven Ray Vecchio away. Ray Vecchio had the Italian independence, the self-assured confidence that he carried with him like his badge. Ray Vecchio would have found his protectiveness and attention suffocating and confining. Eventually Ray would have chafed under the bonds of his love and sought to break free. It would not be so with Ray Kowalski. Ray Kowalski would thrive on his neediness, even as he would thrive on Ray’s neediness, and each of them would be complete.

He sighed heavily. If only. If only it were to be so. But his own insecurity and fear kept him from reaching out. If he didn’t try, he couldn’t get hurt. If he never let Ray know he loved him, Ray could never break his heart. For, like Ray, he loved with everything he had. It wasn’t as demonstrative or obvious as Ray’s love, but it was wholehearted nonetheless. Once he accepted love, he loved with his entire being- mind, body and soul. He knew no other way. Anything else would be... dishonest. Besides, his own feelings were a moot point. Ray liked women, and showed no sexual interest in men, although he suspected that Ray liked to tease both sexes- hence some of the suggestive comments that Ray had made to him on several occasions. Sometimes, though, he had to wonder. Sometimes there was something in Ray’s eyes, something that called to him...

Fraser was brought out of his reverie by a knock on the door. Diefenbaker gave a low whine and yipped.

"Hmm, I wonder who that could be," he said to his companion.

Dief barked and headed for the door. Fraser followed, reaching for the handle... and stared in shock at the man who stood on the step.

It was Ray, Ray Kowalski, in a dress coat and pants, undoubtedly attired for a Christmas occasion. His hair was up, speckled with flakes from the lightly falling snow, and his cheeks were flushed red from the cold. He was standing, hands tucked in the deep coat pockets with a scarf wrapped around his neck. In a word, he looked wonderful. Fraser felt his heart skip a beat.

"Ray!" he said in surprise.

"Hey, Frase. Merry Christmas. Ya got any plans?"

He blinked, still caught very off guard. "Well, I.. ahhh... no Ray, I don’t have any plans. Would you like to come in?"

A grin cracked the beloved face and Fraser felt his knees go weak.

"Actually, I was hopin’ you’d come with me. I got a surprise for ya."

Another shock. He wasn’t sure he could handle it, but he managed a smile.

//Oh dear. Ray, my friend, I cannot fight you today. I am homesick and lonely, and I cannot resist you.// "What kind of surprise, Ray?"

The grin grew impossibly wider. "Now if I told ya, it wouldn’t be a surprise would it?"

"I suppose not."

"So, ya coming?"

How could he refuse? "Of course, Ray. Just let me get my coat. Oh, and can Dief come too?"

"Yeah, sure. Dief’s always welcome."

"Thank you kindly, Ray."

Fraser disappeared into the Consulate to get his coat, only wincing a little from his injuries. The wounds he'd sustained at the hands of Warfield’s men had dulled to a low ache. The previous night they had pained him terribly, and he had been forced to take a painkiller in order to get any sleep at all. But today the pain was... tolerable. He steeled himself to ignore the minor aches as he reached for a scarf and of course, his Stetson. Even when he dressed in civilian clothes, he still felt naked without it.

He couldn’t blame Ray or the other officers of the 27^th district for his injuries. They had tried to warn him about Warfield, but as his father had pointed out, he would not bend. In the end, however, the beating he received had caused his friends to rally around him and bring Warfield down. The memory of Ray looking at him with worry and guilt when he came to pick him up from in front of the club, and then the others, walking back into Warfield’s club with him, warmed his heart. They were good memories of good men whom he had led to stand up for justice and what was right. That alone was worth some discomfort. That and hearing Ray say the words, ‘I’m proud of you.’ Very few people had ever said those words to him, his own father included.

When Fraser returned from his office/bedroom, he found Ray standing in the front entranceway with Dief at his feet. Ray was playing with the wolf, jangling a treat in front of Dief’s nose.

"You’re spoiling him," he chided.

"Aww, lighten up, it’s Christmas," Ray answered, dropping the treat into Dief's eager mouth.

Fraser was going to say that that was no excuse, but he stopped himself.

//There is no point in arguing. He is here, you fool, and he wants to be with you. Do not waste the time with pettiness.//

"Ready?" Ray asked.

"Quite," he replied, donning his gloves.

"Okay, let’s go then."

Ray turned and led the way to the GTO that was parked, illegally, Fraser noted, outside the Consulate. He followed, mildly surprised when Ray held the passenger-side door open for him so he and Dief could get in.

"Where are we going?" he asked when Ray sat down behind the wheel.

"I told ya, it’s a surprise," Ray answered, starting the engine and moving the car into traffic.

Fraser said nothing, holding his hat in his lap, watching as Ray navigated holiday traffic on wet roads until finally they turned onto Michigan and the Stratenger Building loomed ahead of them.

//Oh dear. He did not… he could not…// he thought to himself, feeling an odd weight settle in his chest as Ray parked the car across the street from the familiar doors.

Of all the times Fraser had let his inner feelings slip, this was his greatest regret. In a moment of weakness, he had let Ray know about this place, this tiny sanctuary in the city. How could he not have expected Ray to remember? Ray was so sensitive under the gruff exterior, especially when it came to things that were important to his partner.

He stayed motionless when Ray got out, and remained so until Ray opened the car door.

"You gonna stay there all day? C’mon," Ray urged with a wry smile.

Almost numb, Fraser climbed out of the GTO, and followed Ray and Diefenbaker across the street.

At the doors, he tried once to save himself.

"I think the building is locked, Ray. For the holiday."

"It is," Ray answered, and proceeded to produce a key from his coat pocket. "But a buddy of mine is the head supervisor for the security agency that does this building. He owed me a couple of huge favors that I cashed in. We got until three when the afternoon patrol comes through. Then I gotta give the key to the guard. C’mon. I got it all set up."

The key clicked in the lock and Ray swung the door open, gesturing for Fraser to walk through. Dief bounded ahead with a happy yip and he crossed the threshold. Ray closed the door behind them, and he paused, looking around. It was different today. The lobby music was silent. There were no people bustling about, no phones, no voices, nothing but the sound of the traffic outside and the wind, and the tree. He could have sworn he could hear the tree breathing. The scent of pine was heavy in the air, a result of the building being closed up and undisturbed for the holiday season. It smelled like a forest. It smelled like home. He was speechless.

Ray cleared his throat. "I... I figured you were probably homesick, y’know with it being Christmas an' all. So’s I thought... maybe... Well, here... come over here."

//There is more? What more could you give me, Ray, when you have already given me this?//

Ray guided Fraser to the tree and he allowed it, not even consciously choosing to do so until they came to a blanket that had been spread on the lobby floor. On the blanket were two place settings, a basket and a thermos. Diefenbaker was already there, heartily consuming the contents of a dog bowl.

"Here, lemme take yer coat," Ray said, and Fraser felt nervous hands remove his jacket and hat. "Go on and sit down."

Fraser obeyed, still shell-shocked by this display, this thoughtful, priceless gift. But it seemed that there was still more to come as Ray sat down across from him and opened the basket.

"I got salmon, and some cheese," Ray let him know, pulling smoked fish and meat and cheese and bread from the basket. "I couldn’t find any caribou or elk though so I got buffalo. I figured that was pretty close, right?"

Fraser blinked at Ray, still unable to speak, and thought perhaps that was the wrong thing to do because Ray was looking rather nervous. He watched as Ray opened the thermos and poured a cup of herbal tea into the mug closest to him.

"I... uhh... couldn’t find any bark tea either, but I remembered you liked chamomile so’s I got some of that."

The hand that placed the steaming mug before him was shaking. Fraser stared at the hand, memorizing each tiny line and crease on the fingers.

//Such beautiful hands, such wonderful, gentle, caring hands…//

He was broken from his reverie by Ray's defeated sigh.

"Okay, Okay. I can take a hint. You hate it. It was a dumb idea. I suck."

//Suck?// Fraser thought, creasing his brow, trying to make sense of all of this but understanding too well.

"He’s trying so hard, son," his father’s voice spoke.

Fraser didn’t have to look behind him to know the elder Fraser was there.

"What do I do?" he asked his dad, trying not to sound as lost as he felt.

"Well, ya could start by sayin’ somethin'. I mean, insteada dis silent treatment yer givin’ me," Ray was saying, his accent deepening with his concern.

"You have to meet him halfway, Benton. He can’t carry this all on his own. You have to..."

"Bend," Fraser finished.

"So go on, say it. Ya hate it. It was a stupid idea, an' ya jes' wanna go back ta da Consulate."

Fraser swallowed. This didn’t feel at all like bending. It felt remarkably like jumping off a cliff.

"Just play your cards right, son. You'll be fine."

"Forgive me," he finally managed. "I’m... I’m just speechless, Ray."

Ray stopped his self-depreciating tirade and looked up at him. "Uh? Ya are?"

Fraser nodded, fighting the emotions that threatened to well out of him. "Yes, Ray." He looked around at the tree, the blanket with its offerings, and Ray sitting there looking beautiful. The detective had taken off his dress coat to reveal a royal blue knit sweater and a collared shirt that made him look so very handsome. "This… all of this… It's perfect. Thank you."

Now it was Ray's turn to look stunned, and he had to smile.

"You really mean that?"

"I don't lie. You know that, Ray."

Ray looked down at his hands. "I know. I was just checking."

It felt remarkably good to know that he had landed safely on solid ground. "So… shall we partake of this feast that you have so graciously prepared for us?" he asked, hiding behind decorum and manners so he could pull himself together.

Ray chuckled. "Partake. Yeah, let's partake."

"I try Ray," Fraser quipped back, reaching for the mug of tea. He was relaxing a little bit but he was far from calm.

"So… whaddya wanna start with first? Some fish or some of this roast buffalo?"

He cocked his head. "Actually Ray, since I've never had buffalo, I think I will start with that."

"Ya haven't?"

"No Ray. Bison are indigenous to the Southwest. They're Plains animals."

Fraser saw Ray's face fall. "Oh, so like there's no buffalo up in Canada?"

"Not that I'm aware of, Ray. But… it's fine. I appreciate the gesture. It is the thought that counts, isn't it?" he soothed, reaching for the sliced meat and some bread.

"I guess. I got barbecue sauce for it if ya want."

"That would be wonderful, Ray. Thank you kindly."

Ray dug in the basket and produced three jars of condiments and a package of cream cheese.

"Ya know, I was thinkin' about doing this setup outside, but well… I love ya buddy but I ain't freezing my butt off out there for ya. Not when I knew I could get us into this place," Ray admitted as he made his own buffalo and cheese sandwich.

"Hm, well, yes, it would be a bit cold for you out there," Fraser mused, tossing a piece of buffalo to a whining Dief. "Not to mention wet."

"You saying I can't hack the cold?" Ray accused suddenly, slightly annoyed.

//Oh dear.//

"Now you've done it, son," Fraser Sr.'s ghost scolded.

"I'm saying nothing of the sort, Ray," Fraser insisted, backpedaling as fast as he could.

This man was so volatile, so quick to anger. It sometimes made his head spin.

"Coz we can move this party outside if ya want. If this place is too closed in for ya."

"No, no. This is fine, Ray."

"Coz I can hack the cold, y'know. I'm no wimp."

"Ray…"

"We do get snow here in Chicago. Sometimes lots of it…"

"Ray…"

"And I done my share of digging out."

"Ray…"

"So's I got nothing against snow…"

"RAY!"

Ray jerked his head up. "What?"

"I'm perfectly happy here, Ray. Outside would be loud and there would be… distractions. Here it is quiet, peaceful… and there is just you and I. I much prefer this setting for our… Christmas feast."

"Oh. Well, OK. If ya put it that way."

"It really is quite wonderful, Ray," Fraser assured, taking a huge bite of his buffalo sandwich. "Mmmm, delicious."

"Ya really like it?"

He chewed and swallowed another bite. "It's very tasty, Ray."

Ray gave him a small smile that reached his eyes and Fraser felt warmed.

"Nice save, son."

Fraser almost growled at his father, but he stopped himself. Ray was sure to ask questions so he curbed his tongue, and a comfortable silence ensued in which they both finished their sandwiches, and he consumed his cup of tea.

"Mmmmm, this is wonderful, Ray," he said, breaking the quiet and reaching for the smoked salmon. "It really is a Christmas feast. One of the best I’ve ever had."

"Thanks. And speaking of Christmas feasts…" Ray began, making himself a second buffalo sandwich. "Ya wanna come to my parents’ place for dinner?"

It took him a moment to remember that Mr. and Mrs. Kowalski had driven up from Arizona in their camper.

"Oh. I wouldn't want to impose…"

"Ya wouldn't be imposing. My mom already asked if you would come."

"Accept the invitation, Benton. You don't really want to be alone today," Fraser's father told him.

"Dief too, of course," Ray added.

Dief yipped enthusiastically.

Fraser felt outnumbered. "Well, I…"

"Go on, son."

It was time to bend again and Fraser nearly balked. He wasn't very good at bending. He was good at digging in and resisting, at maintaining his distance. This yielding was alien and unsettling. He felt his heart begin to pound in his chest.

"I…" //Oh dear.// This felt like another cliff. Would he land safely again?

"Thank you, Ray. I would… be honored to accept your invitation. I would, however, like to change into something a little less casual," he blurted.

"Ah, yer fine Frase. Nah, yer better than fine. Ya look great," Ray answered, giving him a fond look.

Fraser felt his cheeks getting warm. "Ah… thank you, Ray."

Diefenbaker took the opportunity to bark.

"You look, but you don't see, son," Robert Fraser said cryptically.

"Now what is that supposed to mean?" Fraser slipped.

"Uh… it means…" Ray began, and he knew that he had spoken aloud.

//Oh no…//

"Look, I don't mean anythin' by it. I'm not makin' moves on ya or anythin' like that, OK?"

"I wasn't suggesting anything of the sort, Ray. I wasn't actually talking to you, really. I was talking to Diefenbaker."

Ray scratched Diefenbaker's scruff. "Oh."

"I… uh… actually find it rather flattering that you like the way I look."

Now it was Ray's turn to flush. "Well, y'know how it is. A guy can appreciate another guy. It's not like it means anything..."

//Does that mean I cannot wish it did?//

"Still, thank you kindly for the compliment, Ray."

"Ahem!" Ben's father chided.

"And… if I might say… you are looking rather… ah… fetching today. That shade of blue looks very nice on you. It goes well with your eyes."

Dief moaned and covered his snout with his paws.

"Oh that was truly inspired, son. Very original," Fraser Sr. commented sarcastically.

"Shut up," Fraser snapped.

"Hey, it’s OK. Dief knows I got dessert in the basket and he's sick of us yammering," Ray defended.

"Yes, well," he huffed, flustered. "He can wait. You've already given him a treat today."

"Just a little one, and it didn't even have chocolate in it."

"Good. He doesn't need chocolate. He's going soft."

"Oh come now, Benton, don't get huffy. You'll upset the Yank and ruin the evening."

Fraser bit back a retort. His father was right, and Ray was looking wounded.

"I'm sorry, Ray. Forgive me if I am a little abrupt. I did not sleep very well last night."

That got Ray's attention. "Why? Oh…"

Fraser saw Ray's eyes cloud over with guilt.

"Are ya hurtin' real bad today?"

He shook his head, touched by Ray's concern. "No, Ray. It's not bad today. But thank you for asking."

Ray nodded, but still would not meet his eyes. "Ok, good. That's good. I was kinda worried about ya. Almost came over last night but I figured either Turnbull or Thatcher would keep an eye on ya."

"Both Constable Turnbull and Inspector Thatcher are in Canada for the holidays, Ray."

That shocked Ray and made him look up. "They are? But… they were at the party yesterday."

"Indeed they were. They left afterwards and neither of them are due back until Monday at the earliest."

Ray blinked at him, a kind of horror on his expressive face. "So, like, you was all by yerself?"

"Well, yes, Ray. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own injuries. There was a time in the Yukon when I was tracking a poacher across an ice floe…"

"Save it, Fraser," Ray interrupted. "It's Christmas an’ ya were hurt. Ya shouldna hadta be alone."

He paused, looking at his friend. "I'm not alone now, Ray."

Ray looked at his hands. "No. I guess ya aren't. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I woulda stayed wit' ya."

Fraser always knew when Ray was getting upset because his voice roughened and that pronounced his accent.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Ray. But really, I was fine. A little sore, but otherwise unharmed. I've suffered much worse, I assure you."

"I'm sure ya have, Frase. It's just…"

Ray stopped in mid-sentence.

"It’s just what, Ray?"

"It's nothin.' Nevermind," Ray answered, brushing him off.

"It's not nothing, Ray. I want to hear what you have to say."

Ray sighed. "It's just… I can't stand the thought of ya gettin' hurt, OK? Ya go out there an' ya do stupid shit like stakeout a mob boss all by yerself wid no backup an' no weapon, an' ya get yer head kicked in. I can't stand ta see dat, Frase. It tears me up inside."

//So this is what he meant by my being selfish. He was worried about me.//

"I'm… I'm sorry, Ray. I didn't think…" Fraser tried.

"Yeah, I know. Ya didn't think. Ya get somthin' up yer butt an' ya won't let go. I'm terrified it's gonna get ya killed someday," he argued, ignoring Fraser's blush when he said the word 'butt.'

"It turned out all right, though, didn't it Ray? Warfield was brought to justice…"

"Justice!! He coulda killed you! Bang bang yer dead! No more Mountie. Ya think I give a rat's ass about justice when yer life's on da line?" Ray yelled.

"Well, Ray, I hope it would have meant something to you…"

Ray closed the distance between them and poked Fraser in the chest, his eyes blazing. "No! It don' mean jack shit ta me. Not when it's yer life. Not when yer single-handedly goin' up against a man who has guys like you fer breakfast!"

"Ray."

"I knew Warfield was bad news. I knew he was gonna try somthin'. I knew it!" Ray dropped his hand and looked at the floor. "An' I left ya there. I left ya ta face him alone. What kinda guy does that to his partner?"

Fraser reached out to put a hand on Ray's shoulder but the other man pulled away.

"You came for me when they beat me. And you returned with me to bring the man to justice…"

"But I wasn't there ta keep 'em from beatin' ya in da first place! God, I'm sorry, Frase," Ray choked, his voice full of guilt, his hands clenched into tight fists.

"There's no need to be sorry, Ray. You did what you could. You tried to warn me, tried to get me to leave. But I was being…"

"Selfish, rigid, arrogant…" Fraser's father offered helpfully.

"Stubborn. But you were there for me when I needed you, Ray. That's what counts," he consoled, laying his hand on Ray's arm and not letting him pull away this time.

"God, Frase. Ya forgive so easy. If you'da done that ta me, I woulda busted ya up myself," Ray admitted, still not looking at him.

"No you wouldn't have."

Blue eyes raised to meet blue eyes and Fraser held the gaze steady, smiling softly.

"Yer too good, ya know that Frase? Yer too good for this city, for me. But ya bring out the best in me, and I'm grateful fer that. An' I meant what I said. I am proud of ya."

Now the warmth filled Fraser's chest as well as his cheeks. "Thank you, Ray. That means a great deal to me."

"An’ I promise, I’ll never let that happen to ya again. I’ll knock ya out and drag ya outta there myself if I have to."

Fraser had to smile. "I think that would be more difficult than you imagine."

"Maybe, but it’d be fun trying," Ray said, a twinkle in his eyes.

They shared a laugh, then Ray grew serious again.

"No, Frase. I’m makin’ ya a promise. I’ll never leave ya like that again. Even if it means I gotta stay an’ stick my neck out too, I’ll stay wit’ ya."

"I’d never want you to risk your safety on my behalf, Ray."

"Oh, don’t say that, son!" Fraser Sr. moaned.

"Whaddya mean ya wouldn’t...? You put yerself on the line for me every day. We’re partners and partners look out for each other. Who died and said you were the only one allowed to be noble in this partnership?" Ray snapped, crackling with anger again.

"I’m sorry, Ray. I didn’t mean to imply... I was just..."

Ray sighed heavily and looked away. "Look, Frase. It’s Christmas and I don’t wanna fight."

"Nor do I Ray," Fraser admitted, surprised by Ray’s quicksilver mood.

"I know yer better than me in a million different ways, and God knows why ya hang out wid’ me, but yer real important to me an’ I couldn’t stand if anythin’ ever happened to ya, OK?"

"Understood, Ray."

They fell quiet again and Fraser watched Ray rip into his sandwich, all the while avoiding his gaze. There was something forlorn in the way Ray was sitting, in the jerky movements of his hands, as if Ray was hurting in some way. He frowned.

"Ray?"

"I’m OK, Frase."

"He’s not okay, son. You can see that just by looking at him," Robert Fraser said.

"I know that," Fraser snipped back, wondering what had caused Ray to be unhappy.

"Look, I don’ really wanna get inta it wit’ ya. Ya just... really scared me. Warfield really could’ve killed ya. I… I coulda lost ya…"

Ray stopped, his shoulders trembling slightly. Dief whined and nudged the detective’s hand with his nose. Ray petted the furry head.

Fraser's frown deepened and he was drawn to the hunched form, aching to reach out.

//If I don’t touch, I can’t be hurt. If I don’t try, I can’t be disappointed...//

But the neediness in Ray was calling to him, just as his own need was crying out. It was another cliff, this one much higher than the previous two, the one that would cause him to break if he did not bend enough. Yet he could not stop himself. Even as he saw his arms rise, and felt his spirit-self step closer to the edge, he could do nothing to stop the forward momentum of his heart. From the corner of his eye he noticed his father leave to give them their privacy.

"Hug break?" Fraser offered, repeating the same words Ray had spoken to him the night of the Tracy Jenkins case. And he was over the edge, falling and falling. He could almost feel the wind whistling by his ears, see the ground rising up to meet him...

Ray looked at him and he was lost in the pain in those blue eyes, and then Ray was leaning towards him, his arms coming up to wrap around him. He felt Ray catch him before he went slamming face-first into the hard earth. The branch was bent almost to its limit, but it did not break.

Fraser embraced his partner, pulling him close, aware that Ray was concerned for his injuries.

"It’s all right. You won’t hurt me," he assured, urging Ray to hold him tighter. //You could never hurt me.//

"I’d never hurt ya on purpose, Frase," Ray murmured, almost directly into Fraser's ear.

"I know."

"Yer the best friend I’ve ever had, Frase."

"As you are mine, Ray."

"Ya really mean that?"

"Yes, Ray." //You're so much more than a friend to me…//

"I woulda thought Vecchio…"

Fraser tensed and Ray stopped, his arms loosening, but he refused to let go. The mention of Ray Vecchio did bring out a sadness in him, but it also brought a measure of guilt. He had once told Ray Vecchio that the man was his best friend, and at the time he had meant it. But that was before Ray Kowalski, before he was needed.

"Sorry…" Ray was apologizing, trying to pull away.

Fraser closed his arms tighter and pulled him in. "No, Ray. It's not what you think. You are my best friend."

"But Vecchio…" There was a catch in Ray's voice, a nameless fear that Fraser ached to soothe.

"Ray Vecchio is my friend, yes, and I miss him. I am… worried about him. But you are my friend too, and I am not using you as a substitute for him."

"Ya aren’t?"

The body in his arms was relaxing, pressing closer, and Fraser felt a thrill. Ray was in his embrace, feeling like he was made to be there, he fit so perfectly.

"No Ray. I would never do that to you."

Ray relaxed even more, almost melting into him and Fraser felt warm all over.

//He's acting like… Could it be? Could he…?//

They were so close now, all the barriers swept away, and Ray was a welcome weight against him, soft and yielding. Fraser ventured a hand to brush lightly at the base of the soft blond hair, and he heard Ray sigh at the gentle touch.

For a moment Fraser held his breath, letting it out slowly. If there was ever a time for him to ask about the true nature of Ray's feelings, now was the time. The circumstances might not ever be repeated; they might not ever achieve this level of comfortable closeness again. To dally would be to waste his chance.

His mind's ear heard the crumble of loose earth as he approached yet another cliff, and he felt the updraft of cold air from the chasm as he looked over the edge. He was frightened but comforted that his previous leaps had ended successfully.

Ray was quiet in his arms, his breathing even, as if he was waiting, and suddenly Fraser knew, knew that Ray was waiting for him because he was on the edge of the same cliff.

"Ray…" Fraser began, his voice low and thick.

Ray did not speak, but burrowed further into his embrace, the scent of him warm in Fraser's nostrils. More rock fell away from his feet and he felt himself tipping forward.

//No turning back…//

"Ray, I…"

There was the jingle of keys and the heavy clomp of someone walking into the empty lobby.

//Oh dear…//

Fraser started to pull away, to assess the nature of the intrusion, when he heard a gasp and an indignant growl.

"Hey! What the hell is going on here?" came an angry voice.

They separated and faced a pudgy, middle-aged man in a security uniform. It was the afternoon patrol… an hour early. The man's face was beet red, and he was reaching for his pistol. Diefenbaker growled a warning.

"Hey, hey, take it easy!" Ray snapped back, pulling his badge from his pocket. "Detective Ray Vecchio, Chicago PD. We got permission to be here."

"Oh yeah, from who?"

"From Dick Maggart. Ya know, yer *boss.* He gave me da key an' told me I had 'til 3. Yer an hour early pal!"

"Looks like I showed up just in time!" the guard retorted.

"Sir, I can assure you…" Fraser began, but Ray cut him off.

"Shut up, Fraser," Ray said, then snarled at the guard. "What? Two guys can't hug wid'out ya thinkin' they're gettin' it on, huh?"

"Ray, I'm sure the gentleman didn't mean to imply…"

"Did I not tell ya to shut up?"

Fraser nodded, reaching out a hand to take hold of Diefenbaker just in case as both he and Ray rose to their feet. It was better to be standing; it put them on a more even keel with their opponent. He doubted it would come to blows, however, at least not on the part of the guard. Ray, on the other hand, was furious and likely to do just about anything.

"I got a deal fer ya. You take yer sorry ass outta here an' leave me an' my partner alone, an' I won' tell Dick you was trying to get off an hour early."

The guard sputtered, his hand twitching for his gun. Ray pointed a finger at him.

"Do not! Do not do that! Do not make me kick yer head in. It's Christmas and I do not feel like gettin' blood on my good pants."

"Sir, I would recommend doing as he says. My partner is not known for his patience and you are making him somewhat nervous," Fraser added. "Now, normally, I would feel obligated to control him. However, since we are off duty…"

"Off duty," the guard repeated, looking at him. "You a cop too?"

"Yes, sir. Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father, and for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with our current situation, I have remained attached as liaison with the Canadian Consulate."

The guard relaxed. "Huh. A Mountie in Chicago. Well, I'll be damned."

"Yeah, so like I was sayin', my partner an' I were enjoyin' a nice little *Canadian* Christmas picnic in a spot that reminds him of *Canada* coz Dick was kind enough to do me a favor," Ray growled. "An' if I can't hug the guy who puts his life on da line fer me every day, then I dunno who I can hug."

"I'm sorry," the man said apologetically. "I saw you hugging and jumped to conclusions. I was a cop for 16 years before my accident. I know all about partners."

"Good. Apology accepted. Now scram," Ray snipped.

"Just leave the key on the reception desk. I'll pick it up when I've finished my rounds."

"We'll do that, sir. Thank you kindly," Fraser assured.

"Yeah, yeah. Get outta here."

The guard started to go back the way he came, but stopped to look at them. "And thanks for not telling Dick that I moved the schedule up an hour. I got three kids at home…"

"Of course, sir. Merry Christmas."

"Yeah yeah, no problem," Ray conceded.

"Merry Christmas," the man said, and walked quickly out of the lobby.

Ray was still scowling even after he was out of sight.

Fraser cleared his throat, trying to get Ray's attention, and pointed to the basket when his partner looked at him.

"Dessert, Ray?"

Dief barked once.

Fraser saw Ray blink at him, then his shoulders slumped in defeat. He was feeling much the same way. The peace and closeness they had shared was gone, the mood shattered by the intrusion. He almost wanted to cry.

"If it's OK wid you Frase, I think I'd like ta pack up an' head fer mom and dad's," Ray answered, his voice disappointed.

He swallowed hard, fighting the lump in his throat. "As you wish."

Ray nodded. "Yeah. I think that'd be best."

Ray knelt down and started gathering up the food and place settings. Fraser squatted down beside him to help, packing everything neatly into the basket.

"It was a wonderful feast, Ray," he tried. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well… thanks, Frase. Next year I'll make sure no bozos interrupt us."

The statement made Fraser feel somewhat comforted. //At least the day hasn’t been completely ruined.//

"Or perhaps next year…" He paused, shocked by what he was about to say, and he almost didn’t say it, but Ray looked at him and the words spilled out. "We could spend Christmas in Canada and have a real Canadian Christmas, have caribou steaks and tarts with lichen, and muskox stew…"

The corners of Ray's mouth turned up. "Lichen. Ain't that a fungus or something?"

"Yes, Ray it is. And I’d cook a turkey or ham just so you would feel at home…"

"No. No way am I eatin' fungus, Fraser."

"You eat mushrooms, Ray."

Ray stood up, picking up the blanket. "That's different, Fraser," he argued, shaking the crumbs off the blanket.

"Mushrooms are a type of fungus, Ray."

"Yeah, but they're food fungus."

"So is lichen," Fraser pointed out, putting on his coat and Stetson.

"No. Lichen is somethin' somebody dared to stomach so they wouldn't starve up there in the Frozen North. Prolly watched some caribou munchin' out on it and figured since the caribou didn't keel over it must be edible," Ray quipped, slinging the blanket over his shoulder.

"That's just silly, Ray," Fraser replied as he picked up the basket and moved to follow.

"No, it ain't," Ray insisted. "And what the hell is muskox stew?"

"It's a stew made from the meat of…"

"Nope, nope, nope, I don't wanna know, Fraser. I think I'm better off not knowing," the other man said, walking towards the front doors.

"Really, Ray, it's quite good…"

"Yeah, like lichen," Ray groused, tossing the building key on the reception desk.

Fraser didn't comment, but followed briskly behind as Ray moved to open the door.

"Just you wait, Frase. You think this was good? Just wait 'til you taste my mom's homemade stuffing. Melts in yer mouth. Mmmmm-mmmm."

"I'm looking forward to it, Ray."

They exited the building and crossed the street. Ray opened the trunk of his car and dropped the blanket inside. Fraser was more careful with the basket, setting it gently down and making sure it was secure. Then he stepped back and let Ray close the trunk.

"I'm really glad ya decided to come with me, Frase," Ray said over the roof of the car as they each opened their respective doors.

"As am I, Ray," Fraser answered, lowering himself into the passenger seat.

"Ok, pitter, patter…"

"The Consulate, Ray, please. I'd like to change into dress pants."

"I haven't forgotten, Frase, but really, you're fine the way ya are."

"It would make me feel better, Ray."

"OK, OK, to the Consulate it is."

"Thank you, Ray."

Ray beamed at him, then started the car and pulled it into traffic.

"This is great. Greatness, Frase. Thanks for coming," Ray said, tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

"Thank you for the invitation, Ray."

Ray flashed him a grin. "Ya think I'd pass up an opportunity ta spend a day with you?"

There was nothing Fraser could say to that that wouldn't be too revealing, and the moment for revelations had passed. Acknowledging the missed opportunity to himself, he returned the smile and said nothing.

//I feel the same way about you, Ray. I love you too,// he thought to himself, trying to show it with just his eyes.

*******

Part 3: Simple Gifts

It was well past ten when they left the Kowalski camper, and both of them had eaten their fill.

//Damn, the Mountie can eat. My mom was in hog heaven. No leftovers for three weeks this Christmas! No way. I’m surprised we’re both not waddling. And Dief. Talk about one spoiled wolf. Oh Dief-buddy, I feel sorry for ya. Frase is gonna put you on a diet after tonight,// Ray thought fondly as he navigated the dark Chicago streets.

Fraser was quiet next to him, the pleasant quiet of good company and the well-fed. He took the opportunity to look over at his friend, sporadically illuminated by streetlights and on-coming cars. The Mountie was relaxed, his face serene, except for his lips. Those were moving as he tried to pry something out of his teeth with the tip of his tongue.

Ray sighed, trying not to sound wistful. //God must hate me.//

"Everything all right, Ray?"

//Mr. Bat Ears strikes again...//

"Uhh, yeah Frase. I just remembered that I left a present fer ya at my place. Would ya mind comin’ over for a bit?" //Would you mind coming home with me every night? Would you mind coming home with me forever?//

Fraser flashed him a dazzling smile and Ray turned into goo. "I’d like that Ray. I must admit to feeling some... measure of reluctance to end this evening."

The warm, rich voice made Ray tingle all over. Ever since their hug in the Stratenger Building, he had felt the dynamic between them changing. He was eager to be alone with Fraser again, to see what happened when there were no threats of interruption.

"Really?" he said, smiling back.

"Yes, Ray. This evening... this holiday, has been the best I have had in a very long time."

Ray's smile broadened into a grin. "That’s great, Frase." //Wow.//

"And I have you to thank for it, Ray. Thank you."

"Aww, it was nothin’ Benton-buddy. I like bein’ wit’ ya," he answered. //And when I’m not with you, I keep looking for you over my shoulder.//

"And I you, Ray."

"It’s like I told ya when we first met. We’re a duet. We go good together."

Fraser nodded. "I would agree that, apart from a few times when we have had differences of opinions, our partnership has been a positive experience for me."

"Yeah, fer me too."

From the backseat, Dief gave a whine and Ray reached back to pet him.

"You too Dief-buddy."

Diefenbaker licked his face and he laughed.

"Dief! Dief! You shouldn’t lick Ray when he is driving. It’s unsafe," Fraser scolded.

"Ah, he’s OK." //I’d rather have you lick me. I bet you’re real good with your mouth. I mean, you got *such* an oral fixation. Wish you’d do some fixating on me. But maybe you are and I just didn’t catch on until now. What do they say about still waters running deep?//

Ray pulled into his building’s parking lot and parked the GTO. Fraser and Dief got out and followed him as he opened the security door, and they entered the building. His apartment was very clean thanks to his mom, but devoid of any Christmas decorations, a fact that Fraser pointed out.

"Ain’t had no time to decorate. ‘Sides, I knew I wasn’t gonna be spending Christmas here anyways. Want a cup of tea?"

"Yes Ray, thank you kindly."

"OK. Sit down and make yerself comfortable," he said, going into the kitchen.

"I must say your apartment is looking very nice these days, Ray."

"That’s coz my mom comes in and cleans for me."

"Ah."

Ray put on a kettle for tea and reached to pull two mugs from the cabinet, but his hand slipped and a mug went crashing to the floor. Fraser was in the kitchen immediately.

"Are you all right, Ray?"

"Yeah, Frase," he replied, bending down to pick up the broken ceramic. "Just butter-fingers."

"Hmmm."

He didn’t like the sound of that ‘hmmm.’ "Look, I told ya, Frase, I am not drunk."

"I never said you were, Ray. I would never have let you drive if I thought you were intoxicated. However, I do think that you may have had a little too much Christmas cheer for your reflexes. Impairment starts with the first drink, Ray, and you had three glasses of wine."

Ray scowled. "Geeze, Frase, ya sound like a public service announcement. It took me five hours to drink three glasses. I’m fine."

"If you say so, Ray."

"I say so, now scoot. This cubby-hole ain’t big enough for the two of us."

Fraser obeyed and returned to the living room to sit on the couch. He could feel the present he had slipped into his pocket earlier, at the Consulate. Diefenbaker hopped up onto the couch and laid his head on his lap. He scratched behind the soft ears.

"Yes, I know. It has been a wonderful day."

"The day’s not over yet, son," Robert Fraser said, materializing behind the couch.

"Oh, what are you doing here?" Fraser muttered under his breath.

Fraser Sr. ignored the comment. "So, when are you going to tell him, son?"

"Tell him what?"

The ghost huffed. "Tell him... you know..."

Fraser blinked, shocked, then frowned. "I thought you didn’t like to talk about feelings."

"As I said, I’ve learned a lot being dead."

"I see."

"What, Frase? You say something?" Ray called from the kitchen.

"Ah, no Ray."

"He’s a good man, son," the ghost said, moving to stand before Fraser.

"I know that."

"He’s loyal, tenacious, and sturdy."

Fraser looked at his father. "Doesn’t it bother you the least bit that he’s male?"

"Why should it, son?"

"You seemed rather taken with the idea of grandchildren when you thought Inspector Thatcher was asking for my... services."

Robert Fraser nodded. "True. However, I’ve come to realize that it wouldn’t matter since I probably won't be around to see any grandchild anyway."

"Dad?"

Fraser Sr. sighed. "I’m dead, son. I can’t stay here forever. Eventually I’ll have to move on."

"Move on?" Realization struck him, as well as a cold lump settling in his stomach. "Oh. I see."

"I just don’t want you to be alone, Benton. God knows you’ve been alone enough in your lifetime."

Fraser nodded, agreeing.

"You have to let someone in sometime, Ben."

"I know," he admitted, then looked at the figure of his father. "I love him, Dad."

"I know. And he loves you."

"O-kay, enough of yer babblin’ to yerself," Ray interrupted, walking straight through Fraser. Sr to put two mugs of tea on the coffee table. "Y’know, sometimes, Frase, I am convinced that you are totally unhinged."

"Tell him, son."

Fraser didn’t answer, just picked up the mug and nodded.

"You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me that, Ray," he replied, staring at his reflection in the tea just before he took a sip.

Ray plopped down beside him, legs spread-eagled. "Yeah, well, takes one to know one, right?"

Fraser smiled. "Right you are."

Fraser raised his eyes to see if his father was still there, but the ghost was nowhere to be found. Then his attention was returned to his partner as Ray dropped something into his lap. It was a present wrapped in plain green paper with a gold bow.

"What’s this?"

"Yer present. I told ya I left it here. Did ya think I was lying to ya?"

//Well, actually...// "No, Ray. I had just forgotten about it," he replied, picking up the box.

It was about 25cm long and 20cm wide, but it wasn’t very deep: only about 5 cm. He turned it over in his hands, gauging its weight and dimensions.

"What, ya gonna shake it too?" Ray teased.

Smiling wryly, Fraser raised the box to his ear and shook it lightly.

Ray growled. "Oh, just open it already!"

"Of course, Ray," he answered, placing the box in his lap and neatly peeling away the paper.

Fraser opened it slowly, teasing Ray, enjoying the other man’s impatient fidgeting, until he pulled a cardboard box from the green sheath. Lifting the lid with his fingertips, he pulled away the layers of sheer tissue paper to reveal the contents, and stared.

Tears welled unbidden in his eyes and he bit his lip. Like his father’s gift, this was also a framed photograph, but this time of him and Ray. It was an unguarded moment captured by a photographer he had not known was there. They were in the precinct break room, he in full uniform, and Ray in dark corduroys and a hunter green shirt, his shoulder holster pulling the fabric tight against his chest. They were standing, each holding a cup- probably tea and coffee respectively- facing each other. Ray was in the middle of a laugh, his face beaming, and he was smiling too, his own joy showing plainly in his eyes. They were very close, intimately close, as if they had been sharing a private joke that the photographer had stumbled upon.

Like all pictures of this type, it preserved a perfect moment in time. Neither man knew they had an audience, they had been content with each other and unconcerned with the bustle around them. In the photograph it was plain to see the closeness they shared, the partnership and ease between them, and the love. It surrounded them like a faint glow, setting them apart from the other people in the room, parts of whom Fraser could see only on the edges of the picture.

"Do ya like it?" Ray asked tentatively.

Fraser swallowed the lump in his throat. "It’s beautiful, Ray. Thank you."

"Huey took it that day he was playing with his new camera. Musta come into the break room when we was talking and snapped that. He gave me two copies of that picture and I been saving one ta give ta ya."

"It’s... it’s one of the best things anyone has ever given me, Ray," he managed.

"Yeah, I figured. I saw how that picture a you wit’ yer mom an’ dad made ya get all weepy-eyed. So’s I thought this’d be real special too."

Fraser nodded, boldly reaching over to grasp Ray’s wrist. "It is. Thank you." Then he remembered the present in his pocket and gave Ray a soft smile. "I have a present for you too."

He slipped his hand into his trouser pocket and withdrew the small box. Like the elk he was going to carve for Ray for the office gift-giving, this gift was handmade. Unlike the elk-turned-David, however, this gift he began carving shortly after they returned from their adventure on the Bounty.

He watched as Ray took the small box in hands that trembled slightly.

"Fer me?"

"Yes, Ray. For you. Open it please."

Ray showed none of his partner’s patience. He ripped open the plain brown wrapping and opened the box. Fraser held his breath as Ray lifted the talisman from its nest of tissue paper.

He had carved it from oak and inset it with whalebone. It hung from a simple leather thong that threaded into the top. The entire thing was the size of a fifty-cent piece, and had taken him months of careful work to create. It had been a true labor of love, and a visualization of how he saw their partnership: a series of interlocking pieces that made up a larger whole. The fact that both of them had given each other gifts that reflected the bond they shared was not lost on him, and he took it as an omen. That he would use it as a means to profess his love seemed... fitting somehow.

Ray was unusually still and quiet for a long time, and Fraser began to think that maybe Ray did not like his gift.

"It’s a talisman. The Inuit believe..."

"I know what it is, Frase," came the answer in a voice that was thick and rough with unshed tears.

//Oh dear.//

"This... this is beautiful, Frase," Ray choked, turning the talisman over. "Oh look... it’s got part of yer badge on the back..."

"And yours," he said gently, pointing out where the two merged.

"Oh. Oh yeah, all inna... inner... tangled up wid’ yers. Like... like you an’ me, Frase. All tangled up in each other."

"Yes, Ray, that’s it exactly."

The emotions were so heavy, they were almost strangling Ray, and, normally he would have cracked a joke to ease the tension, but Fraser was looking at him with such affection that he couldn’t make light of the situation. The gift was far too precious and said far too much.

Ray sniffed and wiped his eyes, then he moved to put the talisman on. Fraser stopped him.

"Allow me. Please?"

Ray looked at him and he saw the soul behind those eyes. Everything was just under the surface like it had been in the Stratenger Building. Another push and it would all come breaking out.

"Sure, Frase."

"Thank you."

Fraser took the pendant from Ray’s fingers and slipped the leather band over the blond head. The strap was just long enough to make the talisman rest against Ray’s chest, almost over his heart. Once it was on him, Ray took the talisman into his fist and held it tight.

"Nobody ever made me a gift like this. Thanks, Frase."

"You’re very welcome, Ray."

Ray sniffed back a sob. "God, what’d I ever do ta deserve you, Fraser? I been such a fuck up my whole life an’ then you came into it. Whadda am I gonna do when Vecchio comes back an’ ya leave me?"

Fraser reached out and covered Ray’s hand with his own. "Is that what you think, Ray? That when Ray Vecchio returns I will cease my time with you?"

Ray gave Fraser a guilty look. "Dat’s what I thought ya’d do. I mean, we’re only in dis partnership coz I’m supposed ta be Vecchio."

"Ray, Ray, Ray. I don’t know what will happen when Ray Vecchio returns, but I do know that it will not change how I feel about you."

Ray didn’t answer, but he tucked his chin into his chest and hugged himself. Fraser gently took Ray’s face in his hands and forced the man to look at him.

"Ray. Nothing can change my feelings for you."

Ray did not look convinced, and Fraser knew he had come to another cliff- the final one. He wasn't afraid, however, because now he was fairly certain that Ray would jump with him. He took a deep breath.

"Ray, I love you."

Ray froze and gasped, staring at him. "You do?"

Fraser smiled. "Yes." Then he pulled Ray gently towards him and kissed him on the mouth, feather-light and loving.

Ray let out a little gasp and melted into the kiss, opening his mouth to accept Fraser’s questing tongue.

"I love you too, Frase," Ray whispered into the sensuous mouth.

"I know," Fraser breathed back, running soft kisses along Ray’s cheek and jaw.

Ray’s hands came up to hold Fraser's shoulders, pulling him close, finding his mouth again.

They kissed sweetly, then hotly, hands roaming, stroking arms and backs, until they were both panting and slightly dizzy.

"I... I think I got another present fer ya, Frase," Ray gasped.

"You do?" Fraser answered, his voice deep and husky.

"Yeah. Me."

"Oh." Fraser’s lips turned up into a feral grin. "I see. And may I unwrap this present here or... elsewhere?"

Ray returned the grin. "It don’t matter ta me. ‘Cept I’d appreciate it if ya didn’t rip the wrapping off. I kinda like this sweater, y’know."

"I assure you I intend to unwrap you with the utmost care," Fraser whispered, gathering his soon-to-be-lover into his arms.

"Now don’t be too careful, Frase. Ya know I’m not big on patience."

"Patience is a virtue, Ray."

"I ain’t interested in being virtuous."

"Understood," Fraser replied, urging Ray to his feet and leading him into the bedroom.