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The Out-Reaching Hand
by Lianne Burwell
May 1999
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When they first came to me, I thought they were nuts. I mean, c'mon! They 
had a detective who was a dead-ringer for some mobster, or something, and 
they were sending him undercover, but they wanted someone to pretend to 
be *him*, so that no one would realize he was gone. 

Okay, maybe they'd gotten his family to go along with it, and his fellow 
cops and his friends, but really, how many people out there would know 
him well enough to know that this blond guy ain't him? How many crooks, 
ready to tell anyone for a buck? A lot, I'd bet. It was stupid and hadn't 
a hope in hell of working and I told them so.

I also said sure.

Yeah, I thought it was nuts, but it came at just the right time. I'd just 
finished a couple really nasty cases, I was having trouble with a couple 
cops I worked with and my divorce has just gone through. That last was 
the real kicker. Maybe I was just kidding myself, but right up until the 
last page was signed, I really thought she'd change her mind. I'd loved 
Stella since we were kids, and I thought she loved me. Finding out that 
she didn't think I was good enough anymore was like a punch to the gut.

So, being somebody else, if only for a while, sounded like a really good 
idea. Good-bye Stanley Raymond Kowalski, hello Ray Vecchio.

I settled into the role pretty quickly. After all, the job was the same. 
So the other cops kinda danced around me for a while, trying to figure 
out how to act; that was okay. I didn't really have to deal with the 
Vecchios. They basically ignored me. As far as the world was concerned, I 
was Ray Vecchio, and Vecchio had been pretty much disowned. It wasn't 
just me, either. I think they were pissed off at him too.

The only Vecchio I ever really got to know was the sister, Francesca. She 
got a job with the police as a civilian aide, so I saw her just about 
every day. Sure, she was a ditz, and she was always mangling cliches and 
phrases. Didn't matter. She also treated me like I *was* her brother. I'd 
never had a sister before, and I kinda liked it.

But anyway, it was still a stupid idea but a good thing for me.

Until he walked into the bullpen.

Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Not that he's 
actually *mounted*, you know. All he has is a deaf wolf, no horse in 
sight.

He'd been mentioned a few times; Vecchio's Mountie friend. If Fraser gets 
involved in a case, it turns weird, but usually gets solved pretty damn 
quick. When I moved into Vecchio's life, he was up in igloo land. 
Vacation, or something. First one anyone could remember him taking since 
he got himself exiled to Chicago for proving that a Mountie killed his 
dad.

Anyway, I knew he'd show up sooner or later. I just wasn't expecting him 
to be so damned... perfect. You know, a real Dudley DoRight. The kind of 
guy that makes girls cream their panties. I already knew that Frannie had 
the hots for him, but I really didn't expect a Greek God in a red 
uniform. Next to him I felt like a scruffy little kid trying to be an 
adult. I mean, the guy was almost disgustingly perfect.

And it took me all of two seconds to realize that nobody'd told *him* 
about what was going on. Right away, he's trying to figure out who I am 
and what I'm up to. Well, I could have told him what was going on right 
away, but I'd been told 'tell *no* one'. I was a little surprised they 
hadn't told Vecchio's best friend, but I guess he wasn't near any phones 
or something.

So, we're running around town, trying to stop this arsonist who's going 
after Fraser and the *real* Vecchio, and the Mountie is driving me nuts. 
Most people would just go to my boss, or something, and say 'Hey, this 
guy ain't Vecchio! What gives?'. Not Fraser. He just keeps quizzing me on 
Vecchio's background and measuring me. I mean, he measured *everything*. 
My height, the size of my head, how far apart my eyes are, everything! 
Fraser was just plain weird.

We did stop the arsonist, though we destroyed Vecchio's car while chasing 
her. He's probably gonna kill me when he sees what's left of it. I still 
have nightmares about driving through Chicago in a burning car, trying to 
find someplace to ditch it where nobody'd get hurt. Still, it was a win 
on the books.

I was at my desk when Fraser came in that night. It was pretty late, and 
the only person the besides me was the Lieutenant. I was still filling 
out the gazillion forms on the crazy lady with the taste for burning 
stuff. Fraser headed for the loot's office, probably to get that 
explanation finally. I watched him go, then turned back to those damned 
forms.

Part of me, though, was wondering what happened next. I mean, sure, 
teasing Big Red had been fun, but now he'd know the score. Was he gonna 
to go all uncomfortable on me, like the other cops? Was he gonna ignore 
me, like the Vecchios? I mean, I didn't have many close friends, and it 
was kinda nice having one, even if he was really someone else's.

When the door opened again, Fraser looked thoughtful. I handed him a 
postcard that had shown up, addressed to him. Just a one-liner. He 
grabbed a lighter and ran the flame behind it, and the picture changed. I 
checked it out over his shoulder.

It was a picture of Fraser and some guy. I guessed right away that it was 
the real Vecchio, and wondered again how anyone could think I could 
replace him. I mean, we didn't look anything alike!

I was getting pretty nervous, wondering when he was gonna blow up at me, 
or whatever. I was headed back to my forms when Fraser surprised me. He 
was heading for the door when he turned and asked if I wanted to get a 
bite to eat. I was floored. I mean, he knew I wasn't his pal or anything, 
and he was asking me to dinner? And it wasn't just to keep up appearances 
to protect Vecchio. Fraser's one of those guys who can't lie with a 
straight face -- I'd already found that out. No, he wanted to have dinner 
with *me*.

I said sure and grabbed my coat.

Dinner was a little awkward. I mean, we didn't know each other or 
anything. We couldn't really talk about me, since I wasn't really *me*. 
Instead, he told me all about his vacation and the illegal dumping ring 
that he'd chased across the north pole from the sound of it.

The restaurant was nice, too. Little family-run Chinese place. They 
obviously knew him, since they didn't complain about the wolf. They also 
looked a little weirded out when Fraser called me Detective Vecchio, but 
he said something in Chinese, and they all shrugged. After that, they 
seemed to accept me. I didn't know he spoke Chinese.

It was nice, the food was good, and for the first time since I'd become 
Vecchio, I started to relax.

* * * * *

After that, Fraser and I became friends. I'd never had a friend like this 
before. Even Stella wasn't this loyal; she was too busy building a 
career. But Fraser... If I needed him, there he was. Always ready with 
help, a story or a ready ear.

Everything was fine until the dreams started.

Now, understand. I'm *straight*. I've even *thought* about a guy in that 
way. That was why I was shocked the first time I woke up with a sticky 
mess in my pajamas, and Fraser's name on my lips. I hadn't had a wet 
dream in years, and I'd certainly never had one about a guy. It should 
have been about Stella!

We had our first big fight that day. I don't even remember what it was 
about. I guess I was just spoiling for a fight. Fighting with him was 
easier than thinking about that dream.

I am *not* gay. I do *not* want a guy to... do that to me.

The scary thing is, the longer the dreams went on, the less sure I was of 
that.

That's why I started to push him away. I didn't dream of any other guy, 
so if Fraser wasn't around, these thoughts would go away, right? So every 
day I pushed a little harder, and every day he looked a little more 
confused. It actually built up to the point that I slugged him.

Okay, I did *warn* him. He kept trying to get me to talk about it, and I 
didn't want to. So he poked and pried until I finally told him; back off 
or I'll hit you. He didn't, so I did.

I felt like a shit right away, though. The hurt in his eyes. I wanted to 
hug him and say I was sorry.

I wanted to kiss him.

God, I wanted to kiss him.

It was too late to push him away. I was trapped. The only thing left to 
do was to get the hell out of town.

So, I'd transfer, after one last case. Fraser was talking about 
transferring too. But then that business with the boats came up, and we 
were undercover on this boat full of pirates. I'm going out of my mind, 
and Fraser's leading them in a sing-along. Weird, but standard when 
dealing with Big Red.

Of course things went wrong. They usually do. I get bashed over the head, 
and the boat starts sinking. I figured I was a goner, but Fraser turns 
up. He stayed behind to find me. I was really feeling like a heel for the 
way I'd been treating him. Just because my sub-conscious is lusting after 
him doesn't make it his fault. He didn't even know about it.

Anyway, we're stuck on a sinking boat, and the only hope we have is to 
get to this mini-sub thingy. But to do that we gotta go through these 
flooded areas, and I don't handle those sorts of things very well. 
Halfway there, I started panicking. I couldn't breathe, and there was no 
place to go. I was gonna die. I knew it.

And then Fraser's there again. He grabs onto my face, just like in my 
dreams, and he's kissing me. But when I open up, I get a mouthful of air.

Suddenly, I'm not so panicky about breathing anymore. Fraser's gonna help 
me. Only thing is, that mouthful of air came along with a tongue. Sure, 
it was fast, but it was definitely a tongue.

When we got to an air-bubble, I asked him what that had been about. He 
called it buddy-breathing, and said he was just giving me air because I 
was panicking. For a moment, I almost bought it, but he looked guilty. 
Fraser's not good about hiding his feelings. He *had* slipped me the 
tongue. But why?

I wanted to ask him about it, but it wasn't like we had time to have it 
out. First getting into the sub, and getting lost. Then that ship full of 
crazy Mounties, and finally the fight.

And there was this one lady Mountie. Tall, slim, beautiful and very 
definitely interested in me. *Me*. I thought, maybe this is it. Maybe I 
can forget about the dreams, find someone else.

But I couldn't. Every time I looked at her, Fraser's face popped up in my 
mind. I must have been nuts, 'cause I said 'thanks, but no thanks' to 
this goddess in a red uniform.

And I left the boat with Fraser.

In the end, I didn't transfer, and Fraser stayed too. He'd been thinking 
about heading back north again, but he stayed. He stayed because he was 
my friend. I am such a shit.

* * * * *

A couple nights later, I was sitting around at home, doing nothing. I 
even had the next day off, which was pretty rare, and I was trying to 
decide what to do with the day off when there was a knock at the door.

When I opened it, I found Fraser, looking kinda uncomfortable.

"C'mon in," I told him, trying to shake the feeling that this wasn't 
really a smart thing to do. 'Course, no one's ever accused me of being 
*smart*.

Anyway, he hemmed and hawed when I asked him why he was there, then 
finally stood in front of me stiffly, like when he's on guard duty.

"I need to say something, Ray, and I'll understand if you don't want to 
see me afterwards. I probably shouldn't be doing this, but I don't think 
I can avoid it anymore. It's not the sort of thing that I find easy..."

By this time I was confused and annoyed. "Just spit it out!" I finally 
said.

He stood silent for a moment, just looking at me. I was starting to 
wonder if I had something stuck in my teeth or something.

"Ray..." he said, then stopped.

I was just opening my mouth to ask him what the hell was wrong with him 
when he got this determined look on his face. His hands came up and 
cupped my face, like when we were underwater, like the dreams, and my 
eyes went wide. His face was getting closer and closer...

And he was kissing me. None of that buddy breathing stuff, tongue or no 
tongue. This was a real *kiss*, and a damn good one too. A toe curling, 
blood rushing kind of kiss. It was like I'd plugged into a socket or 
something. I felt it *everywhere*.

When he pulled away, I was plastered all over his front. I don't even 
remember doing that. His arms were around me, and it felt damn good. I 
hadn't been held like that in... well, too long. I hadn't even realized 
how much I missed being held by someone.

Then he got this resigned look on his face, like he thought I was gonna 
hit him again, and started to pull back.

Don't ask me why. Maybe it was the dreams. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was 
me. All I knew was I wasn't gonna let him go. Instead, I grabbed onto him 
tight and pulled him in for another kiss, only this time *I* was the one 
slipping *my* tongue into *his* mouth, and damn he tasted good. I heard 
this little whimpering noise, and was shocked to find out *I* was the one 
making it.

When we finally had to let go, I was hanging onto him. I was gasping and 
grabbing at his coat, trying real hard not to cry. I mean, men don't cry, 
do they? Fraser was hugging me, and his hands were patting my back and he 
was saying things that I wasn't hearing.

After a moment, I pulled away. This was the point of no return, I knew. 
Anything else, and I wasn't going to be able to pretend it was a dream, 
or that I was straight.

I chewed my lip, thinking about it, then headed for the bedroom. Halfway 
there, I turned around. Fraser was still standing there, all stiff and 
proper. My throat was too tight to talk, so I just held out my hand.

His face lit up, and he stepped forward and took it. Without saying a 
word, I took him to bed.

Who needs words?

* * * * *

If this were some romance story, like the ones Frannie reads, that would 
be it. And they lived happily ever after, and all that.

But this isn't a story, and it didn't quite work out like that.

Hey, the sex was great. Better than I'd expected. Well, I hadn't really 
known *what* to expect, but reality outdid it. I'd always thought it was 
gross the way that Fraser would put anything in his mouth, but now I was 
glad of it. I don't think there was a single part of my body he didn't 
taste. I even did a little tasting of my own. Weird, but not bad. I even 
got to like the taste of his... well, you know.

He even let me fuck him. Man, was that a rush. But I wasn't ready to give 
him the same back. I couldn't. I just... couldn't.

The problem was, I wasn't sure that he really wanted *me*. I'm not 
exactly a prize. At least, Stella obviously didn't think so. So why would 
someone as perfect as Fraser want me? Okay, we were sleeping together, 
but deep down I worried. Was it me he wanted, or was I a substitute?

Now Vecchio, I could understand him wanting. And since I was here instead 
of Vecchio, maybe this was just another way I was replacing him. Soon as 
Vecchio was back, that would end it. I knew it.

And then he was back. Vecchio was back, and I was sick to my stomach. 
Sick, because I was sure that it was the end of my relationship with 
Fraser. Sick because somewhere along the line I'd fallen for Fraser. He 
wasn't just a friend anymore.

I was in love with him. I was in love with him and I was gonna lose him. 
I knew it. I always lose the ones I love.

But before that could happen, we had to head north. I'm still not sure I 
completely understood what happened. Gun running and Mounties and the man 
who killed Fraser's mom. Oh yeah, and a nuclear submarine too.

We talked more during that trip than we'd ever talked before. I'd never 
*really* known how isolated Fraser felt. As isolated as I felt, living 
another man's life, I guess.

Also got to do things I'd never done before. Hike through snowy 
wildernesses. Sleep hanging from the side of a cliff. It was a rush. It 
was an adventure. I loved it.

We also nearly did inside an ice crevasse, pressed chest to chest. It was 
my fault too. If I hadn't gone running off like that, I wouldn't have 
fallen in, and he wouldn't have been pulled in after me.

That was when we discussed adventures, and all the things we wanted to 
do. That was when he told me the story of Franklin looking for the 
Northwest Passage and his hand reaching for the Beaufort Sea. For some 
reason, that story grabbed me and I said I was going to find that hand 
after this was all over, even though we both knew we were probably gonna 
die right there, stuck inside a glacier like that caveman they found over 
in Europe.

And we woulda died too, if it weren't for an old friend of Fraser's. We 
were singing when he found us. It's probably why he did find us, because 
he could hear us.

Damn, Fraser's a good singer.

That night, after we reached the Mounty camp, I told him that if he 
wanted to go back to Vecchio, I would understand. I was lying through my 
teeth, but I didn't want to be a substitute for him. I loved Fraser, and 
if Vecchio was really the guy he wanted, then I wasn't gonna stand in his 
way. There's lots of cities in America. I was sure I could find a job 
someplace else.

He started telling me about his dad and Buck, and how they were always 
partners, even when they didn't see each other for months. I was waiting 
for him to tell me basically, 'it was fun, see ya', when Thatcher called 
him away. We didn't get a chance to talk again that night.

So, the next day we fought the bad guys and stopped them, just like 
always. Inside, I was sure that this was the last time we'd ever work 
together

* * * * *

That night, we were camped outside the Mountie outpost. It was a little 
to small for everyone, so most of us were outside in little tents. We 
were sharing the one tent, and the same sleeping bag too. I was trying to 
enjoy it, since it was going to be the last time, I was sure.

"Ray."

I closed my eyes, not wanting to hear it, not wanting to see the apology 
on his face. He'd feel awful about doing it, but he'd still do it.

"Ray, I'm not going back to Chicago. I don't belong there. I belong here."

I nodded, feeling the prickle behind my eyelids, and started to let go of 
him, both physically and mentally. Even if I wasn't losing him to Vecchio 
-- since I couldn't exactly see the guy moving north, although I thought 
it was great -- I was still gonna lose him.

Then his arms came around me, and my eyes flew open. In the dim light of 
the campfire outside, I could see the soft look on his face.

"I was thinking about what you said, about adventures. I was wondering..."

He was starting to look uncertain, and I felt a little spark of hope, 
deep inside. "Wondering?" I asked, my throat starting to tighten up.

"If you meant it, about looking for the hand of Franklin." I just stared 
at him. I couldn't see where he was coming from.

Finally he sighed. "I was wondering if you would consider... staying with 
me."

For a moment, the words didn't sink in. Then I was gaping at him. "You 
want me to stay. With you. Together."

"Yes, Ray."

"Me?"

"Of course, Ray. Who else would I mean?"

"Maybe Vecchio?"

He looked really confused about that. "Why would I be talking about him?"

"Well, that story you told me last night, about your dad and Buck going 
in different directions, but always knowing that they were partners," I 
said.

He blinked at me. "I didn't mean Ray Vecchio," he said. "I meant you. 
Even if you went back to Chicago and we didn't see each other again for 
years, you would still be my partner."

I started to shake a little at that. "Me. Just me. Not a substitute for 
Vecchio?" I said, wanting -- no, *needing* -- the reassurance.

I got it too. Fraser pulled me tight, rubbing his cheek against my 
forehead, and I started to relax for the first time since Vecchio had 
reappeared.

"Ray Vecchio was my best friend when I came to Chicago. He helped me 
learn to deal with the city. He will always *be* my friend. But you... 
You were the last thing I ever expected to find."

He stopped, then started again. "I've never been good at expressing my 
feelings," he said. "My mother died when I was young, and my father was 
never around. My grandparents tried to raise me properly, but while they 
loved me, they never said so, in so many words. The last time I thought I 
was in love, she betrayed me. I tried to avoid feeling that way again. I 
was... scared. I'm not scared anymore."

He pulled back slightly, and used a finger to tilt my head back so that 
we could see each other's eyes, glinting slightly in the firelight.

"Stanley Raymond Kowalski, I love you, and I would very much like for you 
to stay with me."

"You love me?" I asked, not sure that I'd heard right.

"Yes." He waited, just watching me.

I started to grin. I couldn't help myself. "You askin' me to marry you, 
Fraser?"

His head tilted to the side as he considered the question. "Yes, Ray, I 
suppose I am."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes. Yes, I love you too. Yes, I'd marry you, if we could. Yes, I'll 
stay."

That brought out the little-boy smile that drove me wild. Then he was 
kissing me like there was no tomorrow, like he'd been worrying *about* 
tomorrow just as much as I was. Kissing me like he loved *me*.

God, I love the man. The only thing I regretted was that it was too 
damned cold to actually do anything. I wanted to make love to him.

I wanted him to make love to me. Really make love to me. The way I hadn't 
let him before because I was scared. God, I wanted it.

Instead, I settled for kissing and touching and the sweetest cuming  I 
can ever remember having in my life. Touching Fraser, and hearing him 
call my name, knowing this time that when he cried out 'Ray!' that he 
really meant me and not Vecchio.

The next day, we made plans. I sent Welsh a telegram saying that I was 
taking a leave of absence. If we ever went back to Chicago, I might have 
a job waiting. Then again, I might not. I didn't much care. I was on 
cloud nine and nothing was bothering me.

Buck set us up with a dogsled and equipment. Even a bunch of sled-dogs. 
We hitched them up, Dief in the lead, and set off into the wilderness.

First stop was the cabin that Fraser's dad lived in. We did some work 
there, fixing it up to live in when we weren't off having adventures. I'd 
never really done this sort of work before, but I liked it. Chopping 
wood, swinging a hammer.

Staying at the cabin also meant that I had that chance to make love with 
Fraser properly. It hurt at first, having him push inside me, but it was 
worth it. I'd never done it before, that way, and Fraser made it good -- 
very good -- for me.

As soon as the cabin was done, we packed up the sled again, and set out. 
Searching for the hand of Franklin, reaching for the Beaufort Sea.

And we're gonna find it, too. I know we will.


THE END