My second story... I'd very much appreciate feedback, good or bad. (ellis_jo@hotmail.com)

The usual disclaimers apply: please don't sue me {g}.

Rating: M/M (BF/RK), PG, nothing too explicit.

---

"Stakeout"

Ray shifted uncomfortably. "Why are we on a stakeout?" he demanded petulantly. He'd spent a lot of time in this car -- well, more in the backseat than in the front, but even so, getting up in the middle of the night to sit in a car for three hours was definitely not one of his favorite activities.

Fraser gestured at him to be quiet and raised his telescope again.

Ray sighed loudly. "If I hafta sit here in the middle of the night, I want to know why," he repeated. "So. You gonna answer my question?"

"We are on a stakeout," said Fraser patiently, "because I believe that the owner of this establishment..."

"It's a bar," Ray interrupted.

"...the owner of this establishment, this bar, is receiving smuggled alcohol."

Ray rolled his eyes and reclined his seat, causing Dief in the backseat to yelp disapprovingly. "Why couldn't you have waited until I was completely awake to tell me about this? You knock on my door in the middle of the night and tell me we have to go on a stakeout, I'm not going to be able to think clearly enough to ask why. Better yet, why couldn't you have done this on your own?" He yawned. "Wake me up if anything happens."

Fraser frowned. "I asked you to come along because it looks less suspicious having a car sitting in an alley than to have a man hiding in the shadows. I'm sorry if I interrupted your sleep, but..." He turned to look at his partner. "Ray? Ray? Ray?"

Ray groaned. "I'm trying to sleep. Please?"

"I'm sorry," Fraser said stiffly. He picked up the binoculars again. "Ray! This is it, wake up!"

"What, what?" Ray sleepily reached down and hit the lever that reclined the seat, catapulting himself into the steering wheel. "Augh, fu.." he gasped, jolted awake.

"Are you all right, Ray?" Fraser was looking at him with concern. "I think that's the owner of the est... the bar." He pointed at a dark figure moving quietly along the alley towards a large dumpster.

Ray rubbed his flattened nose. "I'm fine," he said nasally. He looked down the alley. "Uh... Fraser, I don't think that's your guy."

"No? How can you be sure?"

"Because it's Detective Huey." He opened the door and got out. "Huey!" he shouted.

"Are you sure?" Fraser asked from the passenger seat, but opened his door slightly nevertheless.

The figure at the end of the alley stopped and stood, motionless. Ray waved his arms. "Hey, Huey! Over here!" He leaned into the car and flicked on the headlights.

"Oh dear," said Fraser, as the detective stood in the spotlight of the headlights at the end of the alley, revealed in all his glory.

***

Fraser was sitting bolt upright, his entire face tomato-red. His eyes were fixed on the glass of ginger-ale on the bar in front of him.

Ray patted Huey on the back. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't realize..."

Beside him, Huey was slouched on a bar stool, dressed in a long sequined evening gown and heels. "'S okay," he mumbled into his drink.

"I knew it was a bar, I just didn't know what kind of bar it was," Ray explained awkwardly. He reached for the peanuts. "But it's cool. I mean, whatever you're into."

Huey sighed. "Thanks. I just didn't expect to ... to have to explain myself so soon."

"So uh..." Ray pushed a bunch of peanuts into a line on the bar top. "Are you... uh..." He could feel his ears getting red. On Huey's other side, Fraser was absolutely rigid.

"I'm not gay, if that's what you're asking," Huey said. "I just like the clothes." He shrugged.

"Hey, who doesn't," said Ray quickly. "So I bet you were pretty happy to find this place."

"A bar for cross-dressers," Fraser said quietly. He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should be going, Ray?"

Despite his embarrassment, Ray grinned. It was almost worth the awkwardness to see Fraser so uncomfortable. "You have a problem with cross-dressers, Fraser?"

Huey glanced up at the Mountie, who looked mildly offended and said, "Certainly not. I just feel a little out of place."

Ray took pity on him. Besides, he felt a little out of place himself. "Well, have fun, Huey." He stood up. "C'mon, Frase."

Fraser leapt to his feet. "Right. Sorry again, Detective." He nodded to Huey and turned to the door.

"Yeah, sorry. We'll uh...keep this to ourselves."

"Thanks," said Huey sourly, adjusting his bra strap.

Ray stifled a giggle and followed Fraser back out to the car.

***

"So I guess I kinda messed up your stakeout, huh?" he said, getting in.

Fraser sighed. "Perhaps I was mistaken about the smuggled alcohol. It just seemed odd that so many people should be skulking about the alley. I thought if it wasn't contraband, perhaps it was drug dealing. But apparently it was neither."

Ray started the car. "You seemed incredibly uncomfortable in there," he said, glancing at the Mountie.

"I haven't been in many places like that." He paused. "No, I tell a lie."

Ray arched his eyebrows. "Oh really? Do tell."

Fraser stared straight ahead. "It was nothing. A case that Detective Vecchio and I were working on. It was necessary to search the local bars for a particular young woman."

"Huh. But I'm guessing that that place wasn't one of the ones you checked."

"No." Fraser coughed. "But I'm not unfamiliar with cross-dressing."

Ray's eyebrows felt like they were creeping into his hairline. "Oh yeah?" He thought for a minute. "Oh right, didn't you once tell me you dressed up as a woman one time?"

Fraser nodded. "For a case, of course."

"Of course," said Ray solemnly. The thought of his tall, muscular partner in a dress was almost as hilarious as the sight of Detective Huey in a long blonde wig. "When you were working with Vecchio."

"Yes."

"So how come he didn't get to be the one to dress up?"

"Get to be...?" Fraser eyed him.

Ray laughed. "Relax. I don't see the appeal in it myself, although I guess Huey didn't look all bad."

"My skills were more suited to the position."

"Uh huh." Ray nodded. "Of course."

"There was nothing untoward about it, Ray."

"Oh sure, sure." He grinned in the dark. "Untoward, definitely none of that goin' on." He couldn't see Fraser's expression, but he could guess that the Mountie was pouting, or as near to pouting as the Canadian ever came.

"You are taking me home, aren't you?" Fraser asked, quickly changing the subject.

Ray blinked. "Oops... where was I going?"

Fraser looked out the window as Ray turned the car around. "Actually, Ray," he said, "Would you consider stopping for a drink?"

"What? You don't drink, do you?"

"I didn't mean alcohol, necessarily." replied the Mountie. "It's just that I'm feeling rather thirsty, and I didn't feel much like hanging around at Detective Huey's club." He pointed. "There's a bar right there. I'll buy you a drink to make up for dragging you out in the middle of the night. Agreed?"

Ray shrugged. "Sure. Who needs sleep, anyway." He glanced at the bar his partner had pointed at. "Uh... Fraser..." He frowned.

"What is it?"

"Um..." He hesitated. "You do know that that's..."

"What?"

Ray closed his eyes briefly.

"Ray!"

He quickly opened them just in time to veer out of the way of an on-coming bus. "Oops. Sorry."

"Perhaps I should be driving." Fraser was looking at him with concern.

"No, I'm fine. Just a little tired. A drink will wake me up." He made himself grin at the Mountie. *What the hell. You wanted him to find out eventually, didn't you? No time like the present.*

He pulled into the alley behind the bar and turned into the small parking lot. *Mostly empty. Good.*

They got out of the car and walked around to the front of the building. Ray turned to Fraser for a moment, to warn him or to tell him to forget it, but faced with Fraser's big eyes, he couldn't say a thing. He gave him a weak grin and went in.

***

Ray slung his jacket on the bar stool between them. Fraser frowned slightly at that, but took the next stool down. "What will you have?" he asked.

*What the hell. It'll be easier if I'm drunk.* "Whiskey," he said recklessly.

Fraser waved to the bartender. "One whiskey and one... oh, I'll have a beer."

Ray's eyebrows leapt up again. "You? Beer?"

Fraser smiled apologetically. "I am Canadian, Ray." He turned to survey the bar. "This place isn't bad," he said, "Judging by what little I know of bars."

Ray sighed. "Cancel the whiskey," he said to the bartender. *At least if I'm sober I won't do anything I'll regret in the morning.*

"Have you been here before?" Fraser asked.

He glanced warningly at the bartender. "No," he said flatly, resting his elbows on the bar top and hiding his face in his hands.

Fraser was still looking around. "It would seem that men enjoy drinking more than women do," he observed.

Ray stifled a groan and buried his face deeper. He could hear the bartender laughing quietly. "Fraser," he said, voice muffled, "This is a gay bar."

There was a long silence. "Oh," said Fraser at last.

There was another long silence. "That would explain why there are no women in here," he added after a moment.

"Yeah." Ray hauled himself up and called to the bartender, "I think I'll have that whiskey after all." *Screw clear thinking.*

Fraser took a long sip of his beer. "We're having an interesting evening, aren't we?"

Ray reached eagerly for the whiskey, then glanced curiously at Fraser. He could have sworn the Mountie was laughing slightly. He set the drink down again, suddenly not thirsty. "You picked the bar, Fraser."

"So I did." Fraser took another sip. "But while it's my first time here, I think perhaps you've been here before."

*Shit. Oh shit. Mr. Eagle-eyes Mountie is on the case again.* "What makes you say that?" he asked casually.

Fraser pointed to the wall of Polaroids beside the door. "Apparently you're quite good at pool."

Ray picked up the whiskey again. "Third place in the New Year's Eve tournament," he muttered, then pushed the drink away and reached for the nearby dish of pretzels. *God damn Wall of Fame*

"I'm sorry to have made you uncomfortable, Ray. I thought I should be honest with you."

"And let me know you knew I was lying." He cracked a pretzel in half.

"I'm sorry," Fraser repeated. "Would you rather I had let you continue with your pretense?"

Ray sighed. "No. I guess if I really hadn't wanted you to know, I wouldn't have stopped the car in the first place."

"So you're..." Fraser let his voice trail off, starting to blush again.

"Yeah." Another pretzel snapped in two.

He put the pieces down and swiveled to look Fraser in the eye. "So. Can you handle it? Do you think I'm a freak -" *Like I'm not.* "-or what? I have to know. If you don't want to work with me anymore..." He dropped his gaze.

Fraser leaned over and picked up Ray's jacket from the stool between them and shifted over. He reached out and touched Ray's arm gently. "As you said to Detective Huey," he said, "I'm cold with it."

Despite himself, Ray laughed. "Cool with it. You're cool with it." He paused, looked up hopefully. "You are? I mean, you really are?"

Fraser nodded. "You should have told me sooner. Have you told anyone else?"

Ray shrugged. "Stella, obviously. My parents."

"You're not... involved with anyone then?"

"What's with the third degree? No, I'm not. Just a lonely loser who hangs out in gay bars by himself."

Fraser patted his arm. "You're not a loser."

"Yes I am," said Ray, feeling a smile creep onto his face. He reached for a pretzel to hide it. *I can't believe how liberating this is. I can't believe I've finally told him. I can't believe he's okay with it.*

"No," said Fraser. "You're not." He waited for Ray to swallow the pretzel. "In fact..." He hesitated. "I uh..." His face flushed. "I..." he tried again, then took a deep breath. "You're most definitely not," he said quietly, and slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips against Ray's.

Ray almost fell off the stool. His eyes flew wide open, and he jerked his head away reflexively. Fraser stared at him and bit his lower lip. "I'm sorry," he said quickly.

*He's sorry?* In shock, Ray raised his fingers to his lips, then lowered them again. "I... I..." He shut his mouth, then opened it again. "You... you kissed me!" The bartender was quietly cracking up at the far end of the bar. Ray flashed him an angry glance and the man smiled apologetically and stepped into the back room, leaving them alone.

Fraser stared at his hands. "Yes," he said simply.

Ray boggled. "You kissed me."

The Mountie laughed suddenly. "Yes, Ray," he said, smiling.

"So um..."

"Yes, Ray?" Fraser's smile widened.

"So um... can I kiss you?" Ray grinned widely, amazed at his audacity. Before his brain could tell him to stop, he leaned forward and kissed Fraser square on the lips, sliding his hands onto the Mountie's broad shoulders. He felt Fraser's arms move around his waist, pulling him off the stool towards him.

There was a soft cough from behind the bar, and the two men jolted apart. The bartender was smiling at them. "Guys, I hate to interrupt, but this is a bar, not a motel. And it's getting late. You might want to consider getting a room someplace, cause it's way past closing time."

Ray and Fraser stared at each other. Ray pulled his hands away and Fraser let his arms fall to his sides. "Come on." Ray took his jacket from the floor where Fraser had dropped it, and slid it on. Fraser grabbed his beer and took a final swig. They walked out to the car in silence, not looking at each other. When they'd got in and had put on their seat belts, Ray hesitated before turning the key.

"Should I... should I drive you back to the Consulate?" he asked.

Fraser didn't look at him. "I suppose so," he said.

"That bartender, huh," Ray said, forcing himself to smile.

"Get a room indeed," said Fraser, smiling stiffly as well.

At the same time, they turned to face each other. "Your place or mine?" Ray said quickly, before he could stop himself.

Fraser looked simultaneously relieved, ecstatic, and terrified. "Yours," he said. "I'd rather not run into Inspector Thatcher tonight."

Ray nodded, grinning ear to ear. "You won't mind if I don't obey the posted limit?" he asked, turning the key and pulling out of the parking lot.

"I'm afraid I don't know what the posted limit is around here," Fraser replied with a smile, reaching over hesitantly and resting his hand on Ray's arm.

His grin grew. "I told you once not to touch my leg when I'm driving. But uh..." He flashed a quick glance at Fraser, who blushed but let his hand drop to Ray's thigh.

Ray almost drove into a telephone pole.

Fraser got even redder and removed his hand. "Perhaps that would still be a good rule to follow."

Ray sighed and drove faster.

***

It wasn't until they were climbing out of the car in front of Ray's apartment building that Ray remembered something. "Where's Dief?" he asked.

Fraser look startled. "Oh dear," he said. "I think we left him with Detective Huey."

Ray smiled. "He'll be fine. I'm sure Huey loves dogs. Wolves. Whatever. Come on." He started for the front doors, glancing back impatiently. Fraser hesitated, then followed.

He rushed down the hall to his apartment, fumbling impatiently with the keys.

"You still haven't organized your keys?" Fraser said disapprovingly.

Ray turned to glare at him, but Fraser smiled so sweetly that he couldn't say a word. He finally found the right key and flung the door open. "After you," he said.

Fraser smiled. "Thank you kindly, Ray." He stopped inside the doorway and looked expectantly at Ray.

Ray stared back. *Now what? I haven't done this for a very long time.* He was suddenly sure that this was a huge mistake.

"Do you have any tea?" Fraser asked, his normally steady voice trembling slightly.

Ray nodded, glad of the diversion. "If I'd known you were coming over, I'd have gotten some of that... that bark tea." He forced a wide grin. Then he paused. "Uh, actually, I don't have any tea. Just coffee. Instant. Sorry."

"Coffee's fine." Fraser walked over and sat down on the sofa.

With a big sigh, Ray walked over to his tiny kitchen and rummaged in the cupboard for mugs. As he finally located a spare on the small shelf over the fridge, he heard footsteps approaching. He spun around. Fraser was standing right in front of him, looking extremely nervous. "I don't really want any coffee, Ray," he said in a small voice.

Ray nodded slowly. "You don't."

"No." Fraser chewed on his lip. "Unless you were planning on having some."

"Not unless you want some."

"No." There was an awkward silence. "And you don't have any tea?"

"Sorry."

They stared at each other, faces inches apart.

Ray could feel his heart pounding. The blood rushed in his ears. "Did we make a mistake?" he whispered finally, knees trembling.

Fraser's eyes were wide. "We haven't yet," he said quietly.

"Would we be?"

Fraser licked his lip slowly. "No," he whispered, and wrapped his arms around Ray. Ray sighed and sank into his embrace, raising his head to meet Fraser's warm lips. The Mountie pulled him away from the cold surface of the fridge and backed hard into the counter. "Sorry," he murmured, sending Ray into a fit of giggles.

"Are you apologizing to me or the counter?" he asked, laughing. Fraser smiled foolishly.

Ray felt the nervous tension drain out of him and hugged Fraser hard, then guided him out of the kitchen towards the couch. They fell onto it together with a crash, causing Ray to laugh even harder.

He shifted to lie beside Fraser, staring deep into his eyes. Fraser slid his hand around the back of Ray's head, running his fingers through his spiky blond hair, and pulled him close to kiss him again.

His eyes closed, and he bit Fraser's lip gently. To his delight, his partner moaned slightly and kissed him harder, pressing his tongue between Ray's lips. Ray opened his mouth and kissed him back, sliding his hands down to lift Fraser's sweater. They pulled apart for a moment while Ray tugged the sweater over Fraser's head and tossed it on the floor. Fraser's hands were under Ray's t-shirt, hot against his chest. He pulled it off and fumblingly helped Fraser remove his own shirt.

Ray burst out laughing.

Fraser looked deeply offended. "What?" he demanded.

"You're wearing..." Ray could barely contain his laughter long enough to talk. "You're wearing long underwear. And it's red." He curled up into a ball on the sofa, still laughing.

"Well if you'll ever stop laughing, you'll find out that it comes off."

Still giggling slightly, Ray sat up and slid his hands slowly over the red cotton.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Ray froze. *No. I don't believe this.*

Fraser gently peeled Ray's hands away from his body. "You'd better answer it. It could be important."

"It damn well better be important," Ray said, hauling himself up. He grabbed his shirt off the back of the couch and pulled it on, then ran a hand through his hair.

Fraser smiled at him and reached up to adjust some stray hairs. "Shall I stay out here?"

"You might want to consider putting your shirt on. I mean, I don't mind, but..." He walked over to the door while Fraser dressed quickly.

"Hello?" He cracked the door open. "Huey?"

"The Mountie left his wolf at the club," the Detective said, scowling. "I wasn't going to drive all the way over to the Consulate with this animal, so I figured you wouldn't mind looking after him overnight."

Fraser stepped up behind Ray. "Hello Detective. As luck would have it, I'm not at the Consulate."

Huey stared at him, then glanced at Ray, then back at Fraser. "I can see that. Aren't you guys working kind of late?"

Ray stepped back. "Come on in," he said with a sigh. Dief bounded in and promptly took up a position with his back to Fraser."

"Don't sulk," Fraser said coaxingly. "I thought you'd enjoy a change of atmosphere."

Dief looked at Ray and whined.

"All right, we forgot. I'm sorry."

The wolf curled up on the floor and lay his head on his paws, looking pitiful.

Fraser started to apologize more, but Ray interrupted. "We all know how he likes to hold grudges. Just let him sleep it off, okay? Or we'll be here all night." He listened to his words and couldn't hold back his smile.

Huey eyed him. "I guess I'll be going then," he said, but didn't move towards the door.

"I see you've changed back to your regular clothes." Fraser said politely.

"Sure, you think I want to wander the streets of Chicago dressed like that?" Huey wandered towards the sofa and sat down. He paused. "Do you guys think it's weird?"

"What, cross-dressing?" Fraser said. "I've experienced it myself."

Huey nodded. "Yeah, we all heard about that. But that was... work related. Not just for fun."

Ray, who'd been standing meaningfully by the open door, sighed loudly and closed it. "Coffee?" he asked sarcastically.

"Sure," said Huey.

"I'll have some too then, if you're making it after all." Fraser flashed him a look.

Meaning what, Ray didn't know. *Have patience, probably.* He grabbed the two cups he'd unearthed earlier and slammed them onto the counter.

Huey turned to look at him. "Am I interrupting something?" He looked from one man to the other.

*Only the most important night of my life.* Ray snarled mentally, violently smacking the kettle onto the burner.

Fraser closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "Detective, I think perhaps we should continue this discussion another night."

"Fine," said Huey, sounding insulted. "I'm sorry if my lifestyle makes you uncomfortable. But I'm as straight as you are, okay? I mean, I don't complain about your red uniform."

Ray bit his lip hard, glancing at Fraser who was barely hiding a grin. "Huey, relax. We don't care what you wear on your time off. Swear to God."

Fraser nodded. "It's just that we were in the middle of something."

Huey frowned, but got up. "And you won't mention this to anyone."

*As long as you don't start any rumours about us.* Ray nodded. "See you tomorrow."

"In a few hours, you mean." Huey gestured at the clock. "It's already 4:30."

Ray groaned. "All the more reason for you to leave. I'm never going to make it in to work tomorrow." He followed Huey to the door. "Thanks for stopping by." He tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Yes, thank you kindly for returning Diefenbaker." Fraser called from across the room.

Ray shut the door with a bang behind the detective, then turned and leaned back against it. "Perfect. Just perfect."

"Maybe I should go home so you can get some sleep." Fraser picked up his sweater. "Come, Dief."

Ray straightened. "Forget it. It's already 4:30, it's not like a couple of hours of sleep are going to make any difference now." He hesitated. "Don't you want to stay?"

Fraser smiled. "More than anything in the world," he said, setting his sweater down again and stepping towards his partner. "Where were we?"

"I'm not sure, but I won't mind if we start from the beginning." Ray reached for Fraser's shirt, then stopped.

Dief had shifted around and was staring intently at them.

"Uh... you think you could do something about your wolf?" he said nervously.

With an offended woof, Dief stood up and trotted into the kitchen.

Fraser looked at him. "Okay?"

Ray smiled. "Okay." He leaned forward and gave Fraser a long, deep kiss.

Just as they'd started shuffling towards the couch again, there was another knock at the door. "Fraser? Are you in there?"

Fraser froze. "It's the Inspector," he whispered urgently, eyes flicking around the room, looking for an escape route.

"Relax. We're working late." Ray adjusted his shirt. "Button your jeans!" he hissed as he reached for the doorknob. Fraser blanched and fixed his pants. "Yes?" Ray opened the door.

"Good... morning, Detective." Meg Thatcher gave him a steely gaze. "Is Constable Fraser here?"

"Good morning, sir." Fraser stepped out from behind the door. "Is there something wrong?"

"Wrong?" The Inspector stared at him. "No. No... it's just that you didn't return to the Consulate, and your shift starts at 6:00."

"Oh dear." Fraser glanced at his watch, then gave Ray an anguished look.

"Look, Inspector, he's been up all night. Stakeout," he added quickly. "Couldn't Turnbull take his shift for once?"

Fraser nodded hopefully. "He enjoys it, sir."

Thatcher paused. "All right," she said finally. "But you'll have to work twice as long on Tuesday."

"Yes sir."

She paused again. "Why were you on a stakeout, Constable?"

"My question exactly," said Ray. She glared at him, and he shut up.

"I suspected that the owner of a local bar was dealing in contraband alcohol."

"And you couldn't just check the... the labels?" She glared suspiciously at Ray. He flashed her a winning smile. She scowled. "You had to catch whoever it was in the act?"

Fraser cocked his head. "I suppose I could have, sir. But as it turned out, I was mistaken."

"Fine. I suppose it's your time to waste. And yours, Detective."

Ray gave her another phony smile. "I guess I should be heading to bed, then."

"I'll give you a lift back to the Consulate," Thatcher said.

Fraser hesitated. "Actually, Detective Vecchio and I have some work to finish up. Paperwork."

"Surely Detective Vecchio can handle it on his own? After all, you aren't employed by the Chicago police department, you're employed by the Canadian government."

"I'm sorry," said Ray sweetly, "but I really do need his help. My uh... penmanship is just terrible, and someone has to write up these reports."

"You don't type?" Thatcher said suspiciously.

"Nah... I type even worse than I write." He smiled at her. "So I guess you'll be going?"

She nodded sharply. "I'll see you at the Consulate this afternoon, Constable," she said sternly.

"Yes sir. Good night." Fraser closed the door behind her.

"I can't believe this." Ray sank onto the couch. "Are we fated just to be buddies?"

Fraser walked over and sat down beside him. "Oh, I don't think so..." He wrapped his arms around Ray and kissed him. "Does that feel like just friends?"

Ray leaned into his embrace. "No..." He gasped as Fraser's hand strayed between his legs. "And that sure doesn't." He fumbled with Fraser's fly. "God damn button-fly jeans..." he muttered.

Fraser laughed and stood up, sliding his jeans off.

Ray turned his head away, a grin spreading across his face. "The long underwear..." he reminded the Mountie.

"How's this?" There was a rustle of cloth, and when Ray looked back, Fraser was standing in front of him, stark naked.

"Oh..." said Ray quietly, then, "Mm..." as Fraser sat down beside him and pulled him into a deep kiss.

When they finally broke for air, Ray leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Are you all right?" Fraser looked at him with concern.

"I don't know," said Ray, eyes still closed. "It's all happening so fast."

Fraser nodded. "I know." He paused. "Too fast?"

"I don't know," said Ray again. "I... I haven't been involved with anyone since Stella."

"Not even at the bar?"

"I go there for the pool, honestly." Ray sat up and looked at Fraser, then quickly looked away. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but can I get you a robe? It's kind of hard to concentrate when you're sitting there like that."

Fraser blushed, and wrapped himself in the blanket that covered the back of the couch. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't apologize! God, you just look so amazing that I can't think about anything else, and really, I should be thinking clearly right now."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No! But... maybe you should. I don't know. I'm so confused."

Fraser nodded slowly. "I was confused up until the moment I first kissed you." He stood up. "From that second, I knew exactly what I wanted. Who I wanted." He flushed slightly but kept going. "I think I love you, Ray, but if you're not sure if this is what you want, I'll leave."

"You love me?" Ray stared at him. "You love me?"

"So it would appear."

"So it would appear," mocked Ray. "How can you be so sure?"

"I'm sure. I love you, Ray." Fraser began gathering up his clothes. "I'll see you at the station tomorrow, if you make it in to work."

"No," said Ray suddenly, jumping up. "I want you to stay. I don't want to move too fast," he said, ploughing on through Fraser's attempted interjections, "but apparently you love me, and I think I love you, and I want to spend the night with you."

"Are you sure? I don't want to rush you into something you're not ready for."

"Ha... now you're the impulsive one? No. I'm sure. I don't want to sleep with you. But I want to sleep. With you."

A smile spread slowly across Fraser's face. "Really?"

"Yeah. I want to talk."

"Really?"

"Course, that means you have to listen. No interrupting with boring Inuit stories or anything." He took Fraser's hands in his. "But I'll listen too. I want to know who you are."

"Well, I first came to Chicago..."

Ray gave him a playful shove. "Freak. Come on."

And they walked together, hand in hand, into Ray's bedroom, and closed the door behind them.