The season was warming as Victoria Brooks climbed off her black motorcycle and removed her helmet. She stood before a boxing gym, a place she had been to every Monday and Friday for a month. The owner, Jim, unlocked the door and greeted her while she removed her jacket.

"Morning, Brooks," the owner said and looked at his watch. "I’m sorry I’m a little late today."

"It’s ok, Jim, so was I. Apparently, Ray is too." She smiled and checked the street one more time. It was just then that she saw the familiar black GTO round the corner. She stepped in and hurried to the ladies locker room.

"Hey, Jim," Ray said as he hurried inside, followed by Fraser and Diefenbaker. "I guess she beat me again, eh? I see her bike out there."

"Yup," Jim replied. "She’s getting ready. You better…"

She stepped out of the locker room and grinned. "One of these mornings, you’re going to make it on time."

"It was my fault this morning," Fraser cut in. "I was detained."

Brooks nodded and put out her gloved hands to Fraser. "Can you tie me up?"

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" Ray snickered with a nefarious grin and hurried into the men’s locker room as Fraser tied her gloves for her. He emerged rather quickly to find her climbing into the ring. He put out his hands for Fraser to tie his gloves and then he had Fraser tie on his headgear. He watched her as he approached the ring. She was warming up and he noted her punches were strong and well controlled. He climbed in and they each took a stance.

Fraser stood at the edge of the ring and Dief barked. Fraser nodded to Diefenbaker, then looked back in. "Ready?" Ray braced himself and nodded. Tori nodded too and Fraser waved his hand.

Ray swung as quickly as he could, but once again Tori beat him to the first punch. She forced out his breath with the punch and she smiled. 'Should be used to it by now,' she thought. His punch barely hit her as she danced around him. He turned and hit again, knocking her head to the side. They made eye contact and he dared her to hit him again. She swung and he ducked.

Dief barked, distracting Ray only momentarily, but long enough for Tori to position herself. She shrugged her left shoulder, then punched him hard with her right. He was watching the left and the punch took him by surprise. He thought he'd seen most of her tricks, but this one was new. He knew that if he watched the shoulder, he would see which shoulder was actually carrying the punch and which punch was just a distraction. She'd faked him out before so he'd learned to watch the shoulder, not the arm. Now she was throwing trick shoulders, too. She had moved the distracting shoulder as if it carried the punch and had distracted him from the pressure she built up in her right.

He felt oddly defensive and went after her with a number of punches to the gut. He was showing such passion and sudden grace that she was spending too much time blocking to return any punches. She dodged and twisted, but he was on her everywhere. She was finally able to half dodge right, then jump to the left and lose him. He straightened slightly and blocked the incoming right punch, then swung his own right. She shook her head, but didn't let it phase her. Now she was the one who was angry. She blocked and punched several times before dancing away.

Dief barked again. Fraser nodded. "It's supposed to be friendly, isn't it?" he asked, but they didn't respond.

The fighting was starting to get dirty. She danced around and punched his gut in a way that made him lose his footing. He dropped to his knees, but was back up quickly to deliver a punch to her side.

Fraser climbed into the ring. "Perhaps…"

Tori took another swing that toppled Ray into Fraser. They both hit the ground. Tori stepped up to them and put out her glove to Ray, waiting for his response. Fraser scrambled to his feet, but Ray stayed. She stared into his eyes, unrelenting. Ray had too many thoughts running through his mind to make any sense of them. He lifted his hand and punched her glove. She nodded and climbed out of the ring. Fraser stayed in the ring to help Ray to his feet and untie his gloves and headgear. She saw Jim fixing a heavy bag and went to ask him to remove her gloves.

He nodded and started untying. "Something happen between you two?"

"No," she replied casually. "Why?"

"I've been watching you two for weeks and I've never seen you fight like real fighters. It's usually a bunch of taps for half an hour, then you're off."

She shrugged. "Nothing different this morning. I'm off to work." She took her things and hurried into the locker room.

Taking her time to change into her work clothes, she thought about Ray. She knew he was most likely to hurry in, change, and rush off to work, afraid of a confrontation with her. If she could just stall long enough, she wouldn't have to see him.

He surprised her. When she stepped out of the front doors, gym bag slung over her arm, the first thing she saw was Fraser standing like he was on duty at the Consulate in front of the GTO. Ray was standing next to her bike. She stopped in her tracks, but only a moment, before brushing past him. As Brooks stood beside the cycle, she dropped her bag behind the seat. She had just started to tie it down when Ray stepped toward her. "Just what were you trying to do in there?"

She shrugged. "Win, I guess."

He stepped closer. "It's never been about winning, has it? Did I miss something?" He raised his voice a little as he spoke.

Fraser recognized the tone and walked over.

Ray turned to him. "Fraze, I asked you to stay out of this."

Fraser didn't budge. "Ray, you said you were just going to talk to her."

"We are just talking," he confirmed.

"No, actually, you are yelling. Add to that your stance…"

Tori raised her hand. "It's ok, Constable. I think he knows better than to attack me."

Ray scoffed. "No I don't. I'm stupid. I'm crazy. Remember?"

"I remember a lot of things, Ray. Are you referring to something specific?" she asked.

"Oh, what do you know?" Ray stated under his breath, turning away.

"I know you, Ray, better than you think."

Ray stopped and turned back to her. "Do you?" asked and quickly jumped her, sending them both to the ground.

Fraser jumped and grabbed Ray off of her. He was too late, though. Both of them had already managed to get in a punch. As he was moving away she saw her chance to get Ray again and kicked. Fraser turned and stood between the two.

Ray and Tori glared at each other for several seconds. Finally Fraser spoke again. "Ray, we have a meeting first thing with Welsh, remember? I think it would be best for us to just go."

Ray nodded and Fraser led him to the car. Ray sat in the driver's seat and watched until Brooks pulled away.

~~~
The way we fight
The way I'm left here silent
Oh these little earthquakes
Here we go again
Oh these little earthquakes
Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces

I can't reach you
I can't reach you
Oh these little earthquakes
Here we go again
Oh these little earthquakes
Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces
Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces...
~~~

Ray and Fraser arrived at the station a little too soon, for Fraser's taste. He'd tried twice, in vain, to get Ray to talk to him while he sped and dodged and pouted. For once, Fraser had to work hard at not letting Ray's sour mood rub off on him.

Even Frannie saw that it wasn't a good morning to speak to Ray so she looked past him and simply smiled at Fraser. Ray continued to his desk, but Fraser stopped.

"Good morning, Francesca," he said politely.

"Morning, Fraser," she returned with a little flirtation. "What's wrong with Ray?"

Fraser thought a moment. "I don't think I should say. He may not want to mention it."

Frannie looked a little confused, but took his word for it. She didn't care that much anyway. She was swamped with work and didn't have time for his troubles as well.

Fraser watched her sit back at her desk and start clicking away. He stepped over to Ray's desk, hat in hands. Ray was reading through the paperwork on his desk that he'd left from the night before. Fraser could see that he was tuning everything else out in order to place full concentration on the file. After a few minutes, it became apparent to Fraser that it wasn't actually deep concentration, it was a distraction. He had stared at one spot on the page for five minutes.

"Ray?" Fraser cut in, concerned. Ray didn't even flinch. "Ray… Ray… RAY… RAY!… RAY!!"

Ray finally looked up. "Uh, yeah, uh," he stuttered.

"Ray, weren't we going to handle that theft for Welsh?"

Ray finally returned to reality with a head shake. "Uh, art theft. That's right. Not enough murders in Chicago in the winter. Need to follow up on art theft." The sarcasm seeped through. He shrugged and headed for Welsh's office. Fraser followed.

Ray let himself into Welsh's office and Welsh did not look pleased. "Can you hold?" he said quickly, nodded into the phone, pushed a button, and hung up.

"Why am I following up on some stupid painting when there are so many cases on my desk?" Ray demanded immediately.

"Good to see you, too, this morning, Detective." Welsh said impatiently and stood. "The art belongs to a very prominent member of the community. They would like it returned. It's valued at $700,000 and they fear we won't give their case the proper attention."

Ray shrugged. "Why should we? It's just a painting!"

Welsh growled. "What is your problem, Detective? I've given you an assignment, just do it!"

Ray saw there was no point in arguing. Without another word he went to Frannie. "Fran? Got a job for you."

She turned to him with a look of disgust. "Doesn't it look like I have enough? Everyone is working me to death so they can go home early for the weekend."

"I don't get weekends off, remember? C'mon. Just do this."

She looked into his face. What she saw worried her. There was a hollowed look about him. It reminded her of how he looked every time he'd spent a few minutes with Stella, but it wasn't the same. She sighed and decided to do her part. "Ok, give it here." She held out her hand and he handed her a folder.

"This is about an art theft. Welsh says there are a few others. Can you try to find a connection?"

Frannie looked confused so he continued. "This one was stolen from the Caldwell private collection…"

"That's that really rich family, right?" she interrupted.

"Yeah," Ray continued. "Well, apparently the other people are getting PI's to find their paintings, but the Caldwells insist we do it."

"Where were the other paintings stolen?"

"That's the fun part. You have to find out. Not from around here. I just need you to find out everything you can for me. Try to look up art thefts from the last year or so. See if there's a connection. I'm going out to question the Caldwells. Call me."

She sighed. "Ok. I'll do my best."

***

Ray was speeding again and Fraser had enough of it. It wasn't his normal speeding, it was crazy. Fraser was more than afraid and he couldn't take it. "Ray, stop the car."

Ray glanced over. "No."

"Ray! I said stop the car."

He paused, then realized just how insane he was. He slowed down and stopped swerving through traffic. "Sorry Fraze." He sighed and Fraser eased his grip on the dashboard. "Can I ask you something, Fraze?"

Fraser smiled a little. This was a good sign. Ray was talking. He wasn't talking in a tone that indicated it would relate to the case. "Sure, Ray."

"What happened between you and Tori?"

Dead silence. Ray felt he had his answer, but waited for Fraser's version of the answer. He knew it would be vague and politically correct so he simply sighed.

"I can't tell you that, Ray. It wouldn't be appropriate."

"She already told me you kissed twice. You can cut the ‘kiss and tell’ crap."

Fraser nodded. "Understood."

"Did you crush her smokes?"

Fraser looked confused. "I wasn't aware she smoked."

"I mean, did you do anything else?"

"What did she tell you?" Fraser asked, a bit concerned that it had been more than he wanted Ray to know.

Ray shrugged. Fraser watched his partner for a moment as he stared through the front window, barely seeing the road. "I suspect this isn’t about any activities she and I may have engaged in," Fraser said after several seconds.

"What do you mean?" Ray asked.

"Does the relationship she and I have make any difference to your feeling about her?"

Ray furrowed his eyebrows. "You have a relationship?"


"Of course," Fraser replied. "You and I have a relationship that is very similar."

Ray turned his gaze on Fraser a moment, his eyes wide and his mouth open in disgust.

Fraser looked ahead concerned that Ray had taken his eyes from the road. "Ray, the word relationship doesn’t always imply something," he paused to clear his throat and the next word came out quietly, "sexual."

Ray looked back at the road, mildly amused by what it had taken to get Fraser to use that word, but also checking to make sure he was safe. "Yeah, but usually I say I’m in a relationship if I’m getting action from a woman on a regular basis."

"All right, then allow me to specify. The relationship Tori and I have is that of friendship."

Ray grunted. "Doesn’t matter. There was something more intimate involved."

Fraser cleared his throat. "That’s not what our relationship is about," Fraser corrected.

"Come on, Fraze. Deny stop sidestepping it and admit it. You’re thing with her is intimate."

"It is an intimate friendship," Fraser confirmed. When Ray got an annoyed look, he expounded. "Intimacy in friendship is based on sharing, Ray. Again, there’s nothing, uh, more involved there."

"Except that the two of you kissed."

Fraser rolled his eyes. "We are friends, only friends. That is what we have both decided is the most accurate description of our association. We are putting all other… indiscretions behind us. I think it’s important that you do the same."

Ray cranked his neck. They were nearing the Caldwell residence. "Then I guess nothing else matters," Ray replied.

"Of course it matters, Ray," Fraser said, not letting on anything Tori had told him. "You and Tori will find a relationship of your own. Until then, you’ll continue to be confused."

Ray straightened. How had Fraser know that he’d been confused? Canadian thing, he decided and glanced at Fraser. "I know our relationship. It’s based on proving who can beat the crap out of the other one. That’s no good," Ray observed.

As he pulled into the drive of the palatial estate, Ray suddenly felt very small. He stopped at the gate where he was greeted by a camera and intercom. A computerized voice requested he show his identification into the camera, which he did. Apparently the action activated the gate which now opened slowly.

Ray drove up the long drive paved in cobblestone before turning to Fraser. "Y'know, there is such a thing as too much money, eh, Fraser?"

Fraser sat quiet a moment. He'd never really thought about it. He had the money he had, other people had the money they had. He realized then that it hadn't made much difference to him either way. "I don't know," he replied. "Perhaps if you were to call Tori and meet her without the benefit of a boxing ring…"

"I don’t want to talk about it anymore," Ray stated. Seeing that Fraser may want to push the point, he waved the thought away. "Later, ok?" Ray shook his head. "Shake, Rattle, and Roll," he said simply, grabbing his notebook from between them on the seat and getting out of the car.

A butler was standing at the door, waiting to escort them inside before they got to the front step. Ray took a deep breath and walked up the steps next to Fraser. The butler asked them to wait in the front hall while he went to get "the lady of the house." Ray simply rolled his eyes and looked around.

The grand foyer was massive. It brought colours from the surrounding rooms into one sculpted display. There was an oak table with a fresh flower arrangement to guide attention to a grand staircase with velvet decoration and rich carpeting. To the right was the opening to an old style parlor with velvet curtains and tassels like Ray had never seen. To the left was a library with oak furnishings visible through the doorway and book cases that went to the ceiling.

He turned to Fraser. "It looks like an issue of Architectural Digest threw up in here."

Fraser was still trying to understand what Ray meant when a woman in a soft rayon dress stepped out from the hallway under the staircase. It was immediately apparent to Ray that she had been sculpted more than once by a plastic surgeon, but she had a kind face. She stood before them with a flourish and smiled. "I see promptness leaves little to be desired. I hope this isn't a reflection on how you'll handle this case." She turned on her heel. "This way please."

Ray noticed quickly that she didn't even bother to exchange names. Of course he would know her name. As far as she was concerned, his name was inconsequential.

Fraser and Ray followed the woman into the parlor. Everything was perfect and pristine. Gold picture frames, fabrics with gold threads. It looked as though it hadn't been touched except for dusting since the decorator had finished. Ray was looking around as she led them through the room into another room which was equally as pristine and perfect except for one thing. On one wall between two tall plants was nothing but a nail. The walls hadn't faded or dirtied around where the picture had been, Ray noted, but it was the only bare spot in the room.

"A group of officers has already been by to collect evidence," she said softly as Ray looked closely at the wall and surrounding areas.

He looked up. "Oh, I know. I was just…" He smiled and flipped open the notebook. "I have the report, but I needed to ask you if you remembered anything else since the cops were here before."

"No. I wasn't even here that evening. My husband and I were out of town. The help was off for the evening. Did you want to interview them again?"

Another plastered smile from Ray. "No. What I'm really wondering is if you know who might've wanted to steal it."

She furrowed her brow. "A lot of people, I suppose," she replied arrogantly. "It was a very expensive painting."

Fraser stepped forward. "Ma'am? I'm Constable Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I originally came to Chicago…"

"Not now, Fraze."

Fraser nodded once. "Understood. I understand the painting was a Waterhouse?"

She nodded and smiled. "Yes, it is a John Waterhouse."

"I'm curious as to why you had a Waterhouse?" he said bluntly.

"Pardon me?" she replied with true confusion.

"All the paintings I have seen in this house are Impressionist. Granted I haven't seen the entire house, but a Pre-Raphaelite artist would be out of place in a home with so many Impressionists, it would seem."

She nodded, now understanding. "My husband allows me free and complete control over decorating of our home. A little over a year ago, however, he asked that I allow him to buy a painting -- the Waterhouse. I reluctantly agreed. You see, he is an investor. Anywhere he wants to invest money, I agree. He has done such a wonderful job so far, who am I to argue?" She smiled at her comment. "Personally, I'm in love with the Impressionists. The Waterhouse ended up in this room because it was the only room in which it did not clash with the décor."

Fraser nodded. Ray looked to him to see if he had completed that train of thought. Fraser hadn't. "Do you know why he wanted it?"

She thought for a moment. "No. He never said, specifically. He only said that it would be a good investment."

"May we speak with your husband?"

She shook her head. "He's away on business. He should return by Monday."

Ray's phone rang. He answered it and turned away from the conversation.

"Thank you, kindly," Fraser said.

"Is that everything?"

Fraser nodded, but when Ray heard that question, he asked Francesca to wait. He produced a card and handed it to her. "If you think of anything else, call me at this number."

She smiled. "I will."

Ray continued to talk on the phone as they walked out of the house.

Mrs. Caldwell was about to close the door behind them when Ray stopped and hung up the phone. He turned back to her. "Why didn't you hire a private investigator?" He saw that she was confused by the question. "Some other paintings have been stolen. We think there could be a connection. The others hired PI's. Why didn't you? I mean, it certainly isn't 'cause you don't have the money, huh?" he chuckled, then shrugged when he realized his tacky comment by the look she gave him.

"My husband said it would be better for us to allow the police to handle it."

"Hmm." Fraser made the noise, then saw that Ray and Mrs. Caldwell were looking at him. He shook his head. "It's nothing." He continued down the steps to the car.

Ray couldn't help thinking, as he neared the station, how a sanctuary from downtown Chicago might not be as bad as all that. He looked around at the homeless people, the gangs, the criminals that were sometimes just too hard to catch. He'd gotten used to not noticing, but after returning from the pristine palace of the Caldwell's, he was a little less numb.

He was looking straight ahead, trying to tune out the pain and anger when Fraser stiffened.

"Stop the car, Ray."

"I wasn't speeding."

"Assault, Ray. Stop the car."

Ray screeched to a halt and was able to get partially off the street by pulling up to a hydrant. He'd only caught a glimpse of the scuffle, but he could see it was going to end in murder if they didn't interfere.

Before he was stopped, Fraser rolled out of the car and ran toward the trouble. Ray jumped out and heard Fraser holler. "I'll get the other man!"

Ray saw then that one of the men was running toward him, being chased, and that the victim of the assault was farther down the sidewalk. He ran into the first man and knocked him to the ground. Ray cuffed him quickly then jumped to a standing position. His look of satisfaction resembled that of a cowboy who had just tied a hog in 3 seconds. He turned to look the way Fraser had run and instead got a fist in his eye. He fell backward and hit the cement hard enough to blur his vision for an instant. He blinked and looked at the source of the fist. "Tori?" he mumbled

"You idiot! What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

He scrambled to his feet. "This guy was beating up that guy," he pointed down the street. "Looked to me like he was gonna kill him."

"He would have if I hadn’t been there to stop it which I was until you screeched to a halt! Could you have possibly brought more attention to yourself?" She picked up the guy.

Ray tugged the guy's other arm. He was angry now and wanted her to pay. "He's mine."

"Yours? I don't think so! I've been trailing him for days! "

Fraser came up behind them. The other man had gotten away, disappeared down an alley, and Fraser had been unable to tell which way he went. He saw that it was Tori who had been running after the man who was now substituting for rope in a tug of war. Reaching out, Fraser grabbed the man, saving him from both of them. Tori was reluctant to let go, but she did. Ray didn't.

"Perhaps the best course of action would be to straighten this out at the police station."

Tori nodded. "But he's my guy so he's going to my precinct."

Ray laughed. "It's my arrest."

They stared each other down until Fraser spoke up again. "Technically it is Ray's arrest so he should be the one to take him in." He looked apologetically to Brooks.

Tori folded her arms and took them both in. 'What a sight,' she thought. 'Two grown men playing cops while I work my ass off being one.' She glared before nodding an agreement. "I was off duty anyway. If we got to the 27th it might save me some paperwork. Left my bike 'round the corner. I'll be waiting for you at your precinct." She turned and ran down the street.

"Not if I have my way," Ray remarked softly under his breath when she left. He took the guy again and shoved him quickly into the car while Fraser climbed in front. Fraser grabbed the dashboard when Ray jolted the car and drove away as quickly as it would go.

Ray was honestly disappointed when he pulled into the parking lot of the station and saw Tori's motorcycle pulled into a spot. He looked around and saw that she was waiting at the entrance with a smile.

Inside she was the subject of many warm greetings. She nodded and accepted them graciously, but insisted on staying ahead of Ray, Fraser, and the man in handcuffs.

Ray and Brooks asked Fraser to take the man into the interrogation room and wait while they went to talk to Welsh. A quick walking race later, Brooks was first in Welsh's office without even a knock.

Welsh looked up and smiled slightly when he saw the familiar face. "Detective Brooks! What a surprise. What brings you here?"

Ray and Brooks spilled out their stories at the same time. The entire time, Welsh tried to calm them.

"He arrested my guy…"

"…so she decked me!…"

"…and do you know what he had the nerve…"

"…just pointed out that I made the arrest…"

"…of course, he's got that stupid personal doorman on his side…"

"…she’s… hey, wait! Don't go attacking Fraze!"

"WHOA!" Welsh finally yelled. His face was red now and he was standing. Ray knew what that meant. Real trouble. He clamped his jaw shut.

Brooks saw the opportunity and seized it. "I've been trailing this guy for quite a while and I was about to get some really good information when this…"

Welsh's face began to turn a dark shade of purple. "Shut up."

Brooks glared at him. "I'm only telling you what your incompetent…"

He gave her a look that finally managed to close her mouth.

"Where's Fraser?"

"In room one with the guy I busted," Ray replied.

"You busted? It's my…" Brooks stopped short at the tight-lipped look from Welsh. "Look, you can't intimidate me, Welsh. You're not my boss anymore."

Welsh was almost on fire now. "Maybe not, but I am your superior! If you want this resolved and you want me to listen to your side of the story, you'll shut up now!"

Brooks felt angry and as though she had just been told she was grounded. She felt hot and knew that her face was turning red. She gave in and folded her arms, glaring at Welsh. She knew he was right. He was her superior and she didn't need to make waves with him just because she was upset with Ray.

"Ray, what's your side?" Welsh intentionally gave him the first chance to speak to show Brooks who was boss.

She listened without interrupting as he told his story. It was basically the truth so she couldn't really argue, but when it was her turn, she made sure Welsh saw that it was her case.

"I've been trailing this guy and I was watching him carefully. He wasn't going to kill my guy. The guy was undercover. Knew what he was doing. Ray is making a lot of assumptions. I was about to bust him myself on much bigger charges than assault."

"Like?" Welsh asked.

"Murder, money laundering, conspiracy to commit fraud, for starters."

"He did all that?" Ray asked, astounded since the man seemed like an idiot.

"Well, yes. And we just got the name of his partner in that little operation." She turned back to Welsh. "So, you see, it's mine."

Welsh nodded. "Probably, but I'm going to let the Assistant States Attorney set you two straight. I'm staying out of this one." He picked up the phone.

Brooks was about to protest, but Welsh stopped her. "Go into the interrogation room and see how things are with Fraser. He's probably got the guy to confess by now."

Ray walked out first and Brooks took one moment, holding the door open, to tell Welsh just what she thought. "That’s right. Don’t get involved, Lieutenant. It’s so much easier to sit there on your ass and get rid of any complications."

"That’s enough," Welsh said.

"Not quite," Brooks stated furiously. "You did what you had to do to get me out of your precinct, but it’s not going to stop me from doing such a damned good job that someday I’ll have yours." Glaring as she slammed the door behind her, she stormed off in the direction Ray had taken.

When Ray opened the door and Brooks stepped inside, they saw Fraser simply watching the man. He had attempted to begin questioning, but it would be unofficial at best. He'd gotten the man's name, but no more.

Ray pulled up a chair and sat, but didn't say a word. Brooks did the same. They stared each other down for several minutes before Fraser spoke.

"Are we waiting for something?"

Ray turned to him. "Yeah, Welsh's calling the Assistant States Attorney."

"You mean Stella?" Fraser clarified.

Ray nodded. "Unfortunately."

Fraser wanted to smile. He wanted so much to let the feeling show. He was thoroughly amused.

Ray was tired. "Look. Just make it easy on yourself and tell us everything," he said to the man.

Brooks leaned back in her seat. "You know, you're being charged with conspiracy to commit fraud, murder, money laundering, assault. If you don't want to go to the chair, you better start talking."

"It doesn't matter if I did all those things anyway," he said. "Even if I confessed."

"Are you confessing?" she urged.

"Ok, yeah. I did it. I did it all."

Ray was astounded. "How'd you do that?" he asked Brooks.

She shrugged.

Just then, Stella walked through the door of the interrogation room. She saw the people before her.

Ray stood when he saw her. He stepped back and offered her his seat.

"That won't be necessary," she replied. "Welsh filled me in, but I want to make sure why I'm here." She turned to Ray. "You arrested him because you saw him beating up a man on the street." She then turned to Tori. "You were about to arrest him because you have evidence linking him to a bunch of crimes."

They nodded. She sighed and continued to hold her briefcase. "You'll have to talk to me like a child and explain exactly why Welsh called me, then. I don’t understand why you," she glared at Ray, "don’t just give her the arrest." She motioned to Tori. "You could at least work together," Stella offered.

Ray was about to answer when the man interrupted. "They didn't read me my rights. The way I see it, I'm off the hook altogether."

Stella lifted her head after hearing the man and looked back and forth from Ray to Brooks. They just looked at each other.

"Well?"

Brooks folded her arms. "Yeah, well? Did you recite them?"

Ray closed his eyes and replayed the scene in his head.

Brooks snapped her fingers. "Hey, hey. I'm not going to disappear if you close your eyes and wish."

Ray opened his eyes, the realization hitting him. "You hit me before I had the chance."

Brooks threw her hands in the air. "What? Don't blame me! You're the one who made the arrest!"

"Well, it was your arrest. You wanted it so bad, you shoulda done it!"

Stella interrupted. "Ray? Better take the cuffs off." She looked at Fraser who looked as though he was about to give up. He nodded and put out his hand as Ray dropped the keys. As Fraser was taking off the cuffs, Stella left without another word.

Brooks and Ray continued arguing as Fraser let the man out. Then he closed the door and turned back to them.

"This has to stop," Fraser broke in firmly. "Ray, I want you to sit here." He walked around and pulled out a chair, then went to the other side of the table and pulled out the other chair. "Tori, you will sit here." He set his hat on the table. Ray and Brooks were quiet now, but they didn't move.

"I am not very good at arguments," Fraser continued. "I ask that you please cooperate." He stood firmly. Finally the two made their ways to the seats Fraser had assigned them.

Fraser waited a moment. They were starting yet another staring contest so he broke in again. "Look at me." They both looked up. "Now talk. No yelling, no fighting. Talk." They stared at him as if he'd spoken gibberish. "Talk!" he demanded. They still sat silent so he left the room.

Fraser took a seat just outside of the squad room doors. He was feeling very strange. He'd never had to do anything like that before. It made a part of him actually hurt.

In the interrogation room, however, things were different.

Ray watched Tori staring at him. It wasn’t a contest now, but it was obvious both were collecting their thoughts. Asking himself the questions he’d asked a thousand times over the past several weeks, Ray contemplating forcing them on her. Why had she kissed Fraser? How could she lead him on, let him into her apartment when things with Fraser were so obviously connecting. Why couldn’t she have let it go? Part of him was irritated that he wished she’d cheated on his friend, wished she’d left Fraser out of everything that night and let his own kisses make her forget. He wanted her for himself, but not at the expense of a friend. He was torn and twisted, mangled in thoughts.

Tori couldn’t help seeing the look in Ray’s eyes. She didn’t understand it. He wanted nothing to do with her, but here he sat fighting her, taking away things that were rightfully hers. "Why don't you start the conversation?" Tori said in a soft tone.

"Dunno what to say," Ray mumbled.

They were quiet again. Why couldn’t he just give in? Perhaps all he needed was a little stroke of the ego. She could handle giving him that if it meant he would finally walk out of her life and let her got on with it, forget about him. "I guess we should start at the beginning, then," she said. "I'm sorry I got so upset about the arrest. I guess we could have worked it out."

Ray cleared his throat. That was hardly where their problems started. Was she playing games? He wouldn’t be a part of that. "I don’t think that's the beginning."

She thought a moment. That morning had been rough. She’d let her emotions get out of control. Taking everything out on Ray hadn’t been an answer, but it pained her that after the evening they’d spent when she left the precinct, he hadn’t talked to her. Finally, a week later, he’d called and said he wanted to start boxing. He’d hung up before she had a chance to talk about ‘them’. She’d gone boxing, but found their little games of who could go longer without talking made discussion impossible. This morning she’d had enough of the games and just wanted to shut him up. She swallowed. "Oh, well, I guess I got a little carried away in the boxing ring…"

Ray tilted his head. "That's not it, either."

"Oh." She waited a moment. "Are you ready to talk about that?" Hiding what she felt, she couldn’t let on that she was both relieved and nervous.

Ray shrugged. It had to happen eventually. They had to talk about Fraser.

"Well, you know, Ray, you walked out that night."

She was bringing up that night, not her relations with his friend. In frustration, Ray shrugged again. "I was confused. Can't blame me for that. What I really need to know is did it mean anything?"

"Did it mean anything? I wanted you to kiss me, Ray. That certainly meant something."

"I meant with Fraser. You two kissed, spent a lot of time together. He tells me you still drop by the Consulate to see him on occasion. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Of course, Ray," she replied and his heart sank. The look made her realize she had to expound. "It means we’re friends. Fraser and I are good friends. We kissed and we regret that because neither of us…" she stumbled for words, but couldn’t find them. "We got past the kisses, Ray and you should too. We found out we can be friends."

"Are you saying it meant nothing?"

"I’m not going to answer that, Ray." She paused to collect her thoughts before continuing. "I tried to talk to you about it and you shut me out." She waited a moment, then emphasized. "You shut me out, Ray. There's nothing I'd like more than to move past that."

"Guess it doesn't matter anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"We got carried away. I wouldn't have come up to your place if I'd been thinking."

She was stunned. Any hope she had of healing things was lost. "Why not?"

"I'm in love with Stella. Everybody knows that. We might not be married, but I still love her. Can't deny that."

Brooks stood with a scoff. "That's great, Ray. You just keep telling yourself that." She placed her hands on the desk and leaned over him. "Better keep reminding yourself that you don't have to care about anyone else because you're still in lust with Stella." She paused and waited for his reaction to her planted word. He looked up. "Oops. Did I say lust? Of course what I meant was love." She walked out, closing the door to separate them. When she looked up she saw that Fraser had come down the hall.

He stood before her with a hopeful look on his face. She said nothing, but shot him a glance that stopped him from saying anything before she walked away. He knew in that instant that nothing had been resolved. He felt sudden disappointment mixed with hurt. Fraser ran his thumbnail along his eyebrow and walked into the room where he saw Ray still sitting at the table. He stood when he saw Fraser.

"I need to talk to Frannie 'bout the paintings," Ray said simply.

~~~
How many times to I have to try to tell you
That I’m sorry for the things I’ve done?…
…I tell myself too many times
Why don’t you ever learn to keep your big mouth shut?
That’s why it hurts so bad to hear the words that keep on falling from your mouth…
~~~

When Ray tried to sleep that night, he found that there were too many things on his mind to relax. Not only did he have the usual thoughts of a case running through his head, he also couldn't avoid thinking about Tori. He thought about what she'd said, how she'd looked, her smile. He didn't particularly like it when she was angry or when she was right, but the thought crossed his mind that it was worth it when she smiled or tossed her hair. It was worth it when she spoke directly to him and made him feel alive. Even when she was angry, he felt her anger. He'd tell his mind that she didn't matter. He'd convince himself of it. Then when he'd try to think of clues in the case, his mind would wander.

After an hour he gave up and went to his stereo. He played a number of songs he thought fit his mood. Eventually he fell asleep on the couch.

When he woke the next morning, he found the problem with falling asleep on a couch that is too short. His knees were stiff, his back ached, and he couldn't move his neck.

"Great," he mumbled as he stumbled into the kitchen. He opened a packet of instant coffee and shook it into a mug. Then he followed the normal routine; hot tap water and candy to sweeten it. He grabbed the pen he'd left on the counter and stirred. He popped two aspirin in his mouth and swallowed the coffee in one drink.

When he met Fraser, he was trying to be positive, trying not to think of.... He buried his nose in the work to avoid being left alone with his thoughts.

Frannie had only been able to give him a printout of the names of the paintings that had been stolen. The only connection he could see was that they were all by John Waterhouse and had all been part of private collections. That made sense, Fraser had pointed out, because it is easier to steal from a private estate than from a well guarded museum or gallery.

In order to learn as much as they could, they visited museums and galleries, asking questions. One gallery proved the most interesting and helpful.

"Hello," said the woman at the entrance. "My name is Gwen. Can I help you?"

"Yeah," Ray replied. "We need to know about art."

She smiled. "That's a tall order for one day."

Ray showed his badge. "It's for a case I'm working on. Do you know much about John Waterhouse?"

She nodded. "Is there something in particular you need to know?" she asked as she started walking them around the gallery.

"Well, I was wondering if you could share the value of his paintings."

"It truly depends on which one," she replied.

Ray was glad he had finally found someone who was willing to share information. "What do you mean?"

Gwen sighed. "Let me show you." She led them into a room with many sections of walls. "You see, in here, each wall is dedicated to an up and coming artist. Many go on to become very desirable, but others should expect this to be the best show they have." She guided them to a display with many different types of paintings.

"These are done by Alexandra Pross. She is a wonderful artist, but each of her paintings are very different, as you can see. Abstract, realism, stills; there are many to choose from. Now look at the prices."

Ray and Fraser took a moment to look. They ranged from $1500 to $30,000.

"Now, it is unusual for an artist to have such a range, but you see, I have shown her work many times and I have found that these will only bring in a very small fee." She motioned to the still life painting that was marked $1500. "I find, however, that her abstract paintings will auction for much higher, therefore I can sell them for a much higher price."

"Then why doesn't she just paint abstracts?" Ray asked.

"I don't know," Gwen replied. "She always insists on having a still in each showing. They do sell, but often it is to someone who seems to know very little about art. They just want something inexpensive hoping it will appreciate and they can cash in. There are a lot of… investors… who do this sort of thing."

"So what you're saying is some of Waterhouse's paintings are more desirable than others?" Ray asked, understanding.

"Which makes them worth more or less," she finished for him.

"Could you tell me how much a specific painting is?"

"I could, I suppose, but if you want a good reference, there are books and magazines that list the most recent auction prices of valuable art."

Ray sighed. "Guess it would be at the library?"

"I'm certain it would," she replied. "If you'll excuse me?"

"Certainly," Fraser replied.

They spent the entire day going from one gallery to the next. By the time they made it to the library, it was closed. Ray sighed.

"Wanna go to dinner?" he asked Fraser as they pulled up to the Consulate.

Fraser nodded.

They had a nice dinner, but it was very quiet. Fraser tried to make small conversation. Ray continually answered in a word or two and went back to his own thoughts.

That night, Ray had trouble sleeping again. He was confused by the case, but he was trying not to think about it. He'd worked for over a week and he was taking the next day off. 'As long as Huey and Dewey are handling real cases and I'm on a hunt for a silly painting, it can wait until Monday,' he thought.

Then, again, his thoughts drifted.

***

Tori was startled when the phone rang. She glanced over at the clock and saw that it was 3 am. She'd been thinking about Ray and had only fallen asleep 2 hours before. She felt around and grabbed the phone.

"H'lo," she croaked.

"Tori?"

She sat up. It was nearly the last voice she expected to hear in the middle of the night. "Ray?"

"I need to talk to you."

'It's about time,' she thought. "Ok. Can it wait until morning?"

There was a silence. "Breakfast at The Pancake Shack?"

She nodded, then realized he couldn't hear the nod. "Ok. Make it 9."

She heard a click followed by the telltale silence. He'd hung up without a good-bye. She flopped back into the bed and her mind started racing. Maybe he didn't want to talk about their relationship. Maybe he didn't want to talk about anything important. Maybe he was going to put one more hook into her, making it that much more difficult for her to say good-bye.

Tori was sipping a cup of hot, sugared down coffee when Ray walked in. He looked around and saw her just as she looked up. He took a step backward, but when he realized she had seen him, he stepped forward.

Neither of them said a word until the waitress came to pour Ray's coffee.

"I hope I didn't mess up your case too much," Ray said, feebly.

"Naw. I'll get him again. Guy's an idiot. I'm more interested in his partner anyway."

"Don't you think they'll get away if you don't catch them soon?"

"Oh please. They've been caught more than once on tape and yet they still set up meetings in places without checking for bugs. They've been narced three times since I took the case and they never catch on. They'll probably move to the next city soon, but it wouldn't be beneficial for them to go yet. I've set up a huge trap for them Tuesday."

Ray nodded. "Good. Guess I'll try to stay out of your way then."

There was silence a moment. "You don't have to, Ray. You don't have to stay out of my way. You just gotta try not to piss me off so much."

Ray shrugged. "Not like you’re a saint to get along with."

She smiled. "True enough." She waited. "Why'd you call me?"

Ray couldn't speak for several minutes. Tori could do nothing except wait. Finally he spilled it out. "I realized in the middle of the night last night that it doesn't really matter what you did with Fraser. Doesn't really make a difference. Fraser and I have just been friends for, well, not that long, but I feel like it's been a long time.

"I dunno about Stella, though. I know I really love her, even though we are apart and I don't think you had any right to tell me I don't."

"Hey, look. I wanted to reach over and rip your eyes out, you're lucky I didn't."

"C'mon, don't," he said pleadingly.

Brooks shrugged. "Well, I’m sorry I said that, then. You should know better than to listen to me by now. I don’t know the first thing about anything, ok?"

Ray stared into his freshly poured coffee and bit his lip. He waited for a minute before speaking again. "I guess I don't see why if nothing happened between you and Fraser, you guys won't tell me."

"Ray."

"I told you, we're good friends. I feel… betrayed."

"Ok, Ray, back off."

"I just want to know so it doesn't haunt me at night."

"You know, Ray," her voice was harsh. "I just can't seem to figure why you're so damned interested in my relationship with Fraser. There is nothing romantic or anything like that involved, ok? I told you that. Can you just drop it?" Tori slammed her hand on the table, then shook her head. "Haunt you at night," she mumbled. "Screw you," she said to his face, standing. "Screw your sleepless nights. You’re so damned hung up on anything Fraser and I might or might not have done, you don’t even see that I’ve been honest with you so far."

"But I need to know how far things went. I mean, did you guys do more than you and I have? Of course you have… you kissed, but how far did it…"

"Damn, Ray," Tori shook her head. "It’s not about us, I mean, Fraser. This is about you and me, isn’t it?" she paused, leaning over him. "Isn’t it? I get the fact that your greatest joy in life is to destroy mine, but you’ve got to let it go. Don’t call me in the middle of the night so you can show me I’m a chump for showing up here! Don’t you *dare* corner Fraser because you’ve convinced yourself that you can’t measure up to Superman."

"Hey, I never said anything about being able to measure up. He’s not Superman."

"You sure about that?" she confronted him. "Are you sure your ego doesn’t think that?"

Ray tried to chuckle to show he wasn't intimidated, but he failed. "That's pretty low."

"Don't you think it's low the way you treat me? The way you're treating Fraser?"

Ray stood. "Look, I'm not taking this, ok? I don't need it."

Brooks dropped a $10 bill on the table without thinking. "Think I do? You think I needed to come here this morning with high hopes so you could shit all over them? Get over it, Ray! Get over me, get over Fraser, and get over Stella. She's just not worth it." She left the restaurant and Ray followed.

"Hey, don't you dare tell me to get over The Stella!"

"God, Ray, you are so short sighted! All those things I said and *that’s* what upsets you? You don't see anything except her, do you?" She stood next to her bike. "You’ve convinced yourself that you’re still in love with her despite the facts. I’m sure you have feelings about her, but why can’t you admit that it’s no match made in heaven?"

Ray felt warm, angry. He stood closer to tower over her. "I do care about other things! I felt that for you, y'know. I never would've tried to kiss you if I didn't care about you. Don't you see that?"

"What?!" She still sounded angry, but she was more confused.

"I have feelings for you!" He sounded harsh as he grabbed her shoulders and felt an odd sensation of realization. He’d been forced to admit how he felt to the source of all his anger.

They were quiet for a moment. "Oh," was all Tori could say. She stood quiet a moment, then looked angry again. "Why didn’t you say so?"

"I couldn’t," he replied quickly, letting his arms drop back to his side. "How was I supposed to admit that when you and Fraser…"

"Drop it. Drop the act. I don’t want to hear his name out of your mouth again. It’s not about me and Fraser is it?"

Ray shook his head and glanced at his feet. "How was I supposed to admit that I… I care… or something when we’re always looking for the next fight."

Tori shrugged. "I wish you’d told me."

"We couldn’t do anything about it, even if I had told you before now."

"Why not?"

"We’d probably kill each other."

Brooks shook her head. Her violent stance had driven a wedge between them. Ray had helped. Finally she thought of what she really wanted to know. "Ray?"

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you a question?"

He relaxed. "Sure."

It took her a moment to ask. "Could we try this friendship thing without the fighting?"

Ray smiled a little. "Look. You have to work today?"

"Uh, no, actually."

"Neither do I. Mind going to a few art galleries?"

"Art galleries?" Now she was thoroughly confused by the quick turn of conversation.

"Yeah, it's a case I'm working on. Thought maybe we could go and leave Fraser at the Consulate today."

"Uh." She thought for a moment. "Ok."

~~~
So there I stood, square on my side of the great divide.
A message came from across the void and for the first time in my life
I’m awake, I'm alive.
I thought I was immune to this
till I felt the static charges in the air.
I touch you, you're a live wire, you're the raw fire burning my heart.
It took me by surprise, that's no lie.
You know you are a sharp, shock to my system: a spark, a real shock
You know you are - you are a sharp shock to my system
You start, I can't stop
~~~

Ray didn't learn a whole lot about art. They visited galleries he'd been to the day before with Fraser, but he didn't tell that to Tori. Later in the day, Ray dropped her off at the restaurant to pick up her bike.

As she pulled a pair of lined leather gloves from her pocket, he smiled.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't you think it gets kind of cold for a bike in winter?"

She shrugged. "Well, with any luck, my car will be running soon and I'll be able to drive it through the winter." She paused. "Do you wanna see it?"

"What? Your car?"

"Yeah. Your GTO is nice, but nothing compares to my beautiful machine."

Ray scoffed. "What do you have? A nice Beamer?"

"BMW? Please! It's a 1959 Cadillac."

"Isn’t that an Elvis car?" Ray asked with a look of disgust

"Hey, it's not painted bubblegum, ok? It's black." She smiled, obviously both proud of the car and anxious to share it with someone. "Besides, Elvis’s Cadillac wasn’t as nice," she smirked.

Ray was intrigued. "Ok."

"Follow me," she said and slipped on her helmet.

Ray chuckled as he drove because Tori kept dodging in and out of traffic trying to stay a few cars ahead. She only ever managed one or two cars ahead, even in her bike, as he dodged right behind her.

They were almost out of the city when she pulled into a junk yard and hopped off her bike. Ray pulled in and rolled down his window.

"Get out, sport. This is as far as Mikey will let me drive. We have to walk from here," she said.

"Hey, just how much fixing up does this car need?"

She laughed. "C'mon."

Ray climbed out. "Should I worry about leaving my car here?"

She shook her head and pointed across the yard. "See over there? They'll keep an eye out for you." There was a building and garages with a few mechanics. One waved and she waved back.

Ray shrugged and followed her as she started to weave through the cars. It was a salvage yard full of wrecked and rusted machines of every car type he could imagine.

"Mikey runs this yard and has a few garages out along the back of the lot." She pointed as they walked, but all he saw was more cars. "He's been helping me rebuild my car for the past 2 years." Ray kept pace with her through the lot until they came upon the covered garages.

"Mikey!" she hollered and a small, somewhat muscular man appeared.

"Hey, Tori. Come here." He waved them in and Ray looked around. The man led them two cars down where he saw the Cadillac.

He watched as Tori ran her hand along the door. The top was down and he could see that the interior leather had been painstakingly repaired, but the exterior needed a paint job. It was devoid of rust, but part of the black sheen had dulled. Ray let out a quiet sound. "Wow."

Tori smiled. "My dream car. Gorgeous, huh?"

"I finally got that gear shaft," Mike said and pointed to a filthy table.

She smiled. "I was starting to think you'd never find the right one." She went to the table and looked around. Ray watched her pick up a black object with her right hand and swing it over the edge of the table. She barely took a step and dropped it. He started to step toward her when she bent down. She came up with the object in her left hand instead and he watched her roll her right shoulder as if stretching the muscles.

She examined the part and brought it to Mike. "Looks good, Mikey. Thanks. Any word on the engine?"

Mike shook his head. "Nope. You know, I could modify it to fit a small truck engine."

She shook her head this time. "Nope. I'll substitute a lot of things, but the engine's the heart of the car."

Ray looked under the hood. He could see that most parts were either originals or good substitutes. This Mike was very skilled at his work.

"Well, Mikey, this is Ray. I just wanted to show him the car. He's got a Goat."

"What year?" Mikey asked with interest.

"1967," Ray replied nonchalantly.

"Nice," Mike said. "Rebuilt?"

"Yeah. My pop and I did it together."

Mike smiled. "First car I ever fixed up was a ’67 Mustang. It was my dad’s car and when we got it running, he gave it to me. I thought I was the shit."

Tori brushed her hair behind her ear, a grin on her face as she leaned against the Caddy. Mike watched her and folded his arms. Ray glanced at her also. "Nothing else to say?" Mike asked.

"I think Ray and I should get going," she said. "I don’t want to keep Ray here all day."

Mike nodded. "You a cop too?" Ray nodded. Mike smiled and moved beside Tori. "Detective?"

"Yeah," Ray replied, a slightly proud grin peeking through his expression.

"Just like my girl," Mike said and put an arm around her.

Ray watched wide eyed as she smiled and he placed a small kiss on her cheek. "Yeah, we should go," Ray said quickly. "I’ve got… I’ve got things to do."

Tori nodded and followed Ray out of the garage, then stepped up beside him. "I didn’t mean to rush you."

"No rush." Ray replied.

She could hear that his tone had suddenly become strained. "Something wrong?"

"No. Of course not." He neared his car and stepped faster, breaking away from her.

Tori jumped over a pile of wreckage and hurried to close the distance. "Ray?"

Ray stopped at his car and turned around. "I don’t know what I was thinking. I really don’t. Guess I’m just too trusting."

"What are you talking about?"

"You’re little buddy with his grubby hands all over you, you going after Fraser. I guess it’s just part of your personality to make friends with all these guys, huh? Just a personality trait to seduce them."

"Stop right there," Brooks said, a hand on her hip, the other hand on his chest. She closed her eyes a moment and took in a deep breath. "Don’t make a fool of yourself."

"I’m not the fool," he challenged quickly, pushing her hand away. "I’m just observant."

Tori chuckled. "Mikey’s my brother, dumbass."

Ray said nothing. He ran his thumb along his neck and frowned. The words began to process and he furrowed his brow. "You never said anything about a brother."

"I don’t think I mentioned my family to you at all, Ray. Ok, Mikey’s not actually my brother, but he’s like a brother. He beat up a kid on the playground for taking my twinkie, for God’s sake."

"But you swear you’ve never… you know, had a relationship with him? Kissed him maybe?"

"No." She paused. "Ew, no. It’d be like kissing my brother, hence the affectionate term. He was an only child so once my family… once I had no family left… he sort of adopted me. Took me in."

"Took you in?"

"Yes, Ray. We lived together for almost eight years. If that’s not proof that we’re nothing more than friends, nothing is."

Ray swallowed. "I’m sorry, I didn’t know."

"It’s all right," she said. "Just watch what you say when you don’t know." She shifted on her feet and smiled.

"What?"

"I’m just impressed. That one didn’t end in a bloodbath."

Ray grinned. He thought about it and realized they’d managed to resolve a conflict without anyone getting hurt. "Hmm," he said. "That’s not the worst thing in the world."

"Certainly not," she replied. "So, I’ll see you around?"

Ray nodded. The situation was hopeful and he could see in her eyes that she was asking for more, but he couldn’t give it. He still wasn’t sure.

Tori watched his gaze a moment. She could see the debate with himself in his eyes. She didn’t want to press her luck. Instead she waited for him to speak.

"Yeah, around," he said finally.

~~~
I’ll wait by the backstage door
While you try to find the lines to speak your mind
And if it gets too late for me to wait
For you to find you love me and tell me so
It’s ok. Don’t need to say it.
~~~

Ray opened the door to his apartment and saw a message on his machine. He hit the button, but before it played the message, his mind wandered. He was thinking about Tori. He was wishing he wasn't at the same time he couldn't get her out of his head. He picked up his keys again and headed back to his car.

He needed to talk to someone. He thought of the possibilities, but there was really only one. Frannie would dispense advice from a Harlequin romance novel, Welsh would tell him to "buck up".… No, there was only one true friend, despite the fact that he was the same one who represented the wedge between Brooks and himself. He turned on the road that ran past the Consulate. As he approached, he nearly choked. He parked alongside the curb, turned off the motor, and stared in disbelief at the black bullet bike leaning ten feet in front of him.

'That can't be her. I'm seeing things,' he thought at first and closed his eyes. He rested his head on the steering wheel while taking a deep breath. When he looked up, he saw that it was still there. 'Carrying on with him the whole time I'm pining away like a fool?' He started his engine, then looked at the motorcycle again. He slammed a fist against the steering wheel, turned off the engine, and climbed out from his car. 'She won't get away with this,' he growled to himself as he slammed the door to his GTO.

Turnbull looked up, the usual confusion on his face, as Ray breezed quickly past his desk.

Ray kicked open the door to Fraser's office, then felt immediately foolish at his drama. Fraser was leaning against the window as Brooks leaned back in the seat behind his desk. Her eyes were wide and she relaxed when she saw that it was just Ray. She stood and put on her coat.

"Guess that's my cue," she said. "Time for the boys to talk."

Ray pointed an accusatory finger at her, still angry at himself, but turning his anger on her. "I didn't come here to talk. Well, I did, but I saw your bike out front." He realized how lame he sounded and moved his hands to his hips.

"So?" She seemed confused, then it dawned on her what Ray must have thought. "Ah. I see. You thought Fraser and I were in here gettin' it on, huh?" She put on her gloves as she walked around the desk. She raised her voice. "How many…" she paused and took a breath to calm herself. "You have to believe me when I tell you that Fraser and I are friends, just friends. I don't feel I can confide in many people around here so I came to talk to him. It isn't going to work if you can't just believe me."

Ray was a little baffled by her calmness. He'd half expected a punch when she came toward him. "You two in here all acting like buddies. What was I supposed to think?"

"Exactly what I told you, Ray. We are friends. Watch my lips because this is the last time I’m going to spell it out for your thick headed skull. We are friends." At the last sentence, she added hand gestures.

Ray waited. Angry as she was, she’d not gone for a physical fight. He almost wanted her to just so he could hit her back. She angered him and he wanted her to know it.

Brooks put on her helmet and walked out of the room, effectively ending their conversation. Ray turned to Fraser. Fraser raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

"What'd you say to her?"

Fraser looked away. "I couldn't say."

"You must've done something. She didn't even smack me."

"It wouldn't be right for me to discuss our conversation, but you could use some of the advice I gave her."

"What's that?"

"I simply advised that she calm down. You have a knack of getting under her skin, just like she gets under yours. I told her not to let it get to her or every conversation will end up in a brawl."

Ray hated the fact that he knew Fraser was right. "But that's the way we function, Fraze."

Fraser rolled his eyes. "True," he said, "but can't you see that it's dysfunctional?"

Ray shrugged. "Dunno. You know, we did ok today." He paused. "Guess she told you?"

Fraser nodded. "And here the two of you are less than an hour later in the same habits that may very well destroy possible friendships between you."

Squirming, Ray made a fist with one hand. "I don’t mean to be this way," he confided. "It’s just that I’m so concerned. Both of you are holding back and I wonder why you would if there’s nothing there, you know? Without meaning to, I’m pushing her away so that I won’t have to confront…" he stopped.

"Yes Ray?" Fraser coaxed, encouraged that Ray was finally stating those painful things on his mind.

Ray glanced at Fraser. "I guess I don’t want to confront my feelings."

"What feelings?’ Fraser pushed gently.

"For Stella, about Stella."

"And?"

"And Brooks, of course. Tori’s pretty, I don’t know. Interesting. Fun. Thing is, I can’t keep my temper around her. That can’t be good."

Fraser folded his arms. "Perhaps you lose your temper as a misplacement of those things you don’t want to confront."

Ray nodded. "Then again, maybe you’re full of psycho mumbo BS."

"Pardon?" Fraser searched for clarification."

"Come on, Fraser. Are you saying we’re school kids and I’m tugging her braids?"

Fraser shrugged. "That’s something you need to figure out."

"What about her? She keeps attacking me."

"Maybe she’s trying to prove something to you. Perhaps she is using it to avoid dealing with you."

Ray swallowed. "She asked me a really weird question today." He waited for Fraser to inquire, but his good manners didn't permit his prying. "She asked me if we could be friends without the fighting. Was kinda a dumb conversation, but it got me thinkin'."

Fraser tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

"Did she tell you how she felt about me?"

Fraser ran his thumbnail across his brow.

"I know, I know, you can't tell me," Ray sighed in frustration. "It’s just that one minute she’s asking me about friendship and the next we’re all over each other again."

"I'd like to ask one question to you, Ray."

Ray straightened. "Huh?"

"Do you speak so much of Stella because you are in love with her or because you think you still ought to?"

The words drifted into Ray's head, but he couldn't make sense of them. He blurted out an answer that sounded rehearsed and was the same thing Fraser had heard so many times he thought he's ears would start to bleed the next time. "I love her. She loves me. We just couldn't work things out, that's all. Why is this about Stella all of the sudden? I’m trying to explain myself here."

"I know," Fraser said, putting his hands palm down in an attempt to calm Ray. "I know what you are saying, but you have a lot of questions you need answers to. I can’t answer them for you."
~~~
Oh, it’s evil babe
The way you let your grace enrapture me
When well you know, I’d be insane
To ever let that dirty game recapture me
You made me a shadowboxer, baby
I wanna be ready for what you do
I been swinging all around me
Because I don’t know when you’re gonna make your move.
~~~

Ray wasn't sure how he was feeling the next morning when he got up early to go boxing. There was definite anticipation, but whether it was at seeing her or getting the workout was unclear in his mind. He moved about as if he were a machine. He didn't think much about his actions, he just went on in auto-pilot.

When he got to the gym, he was a bit surprised that Brooks wasn’t there. All at once, he wondered if she wasn’t going to be. Had he screwed everything up? Now there was no chance at anything?

Fraser held the heavy bag as Ray punched at it.

"Perhaps she is ill this morning – or otherwise preoccupied."

Ray glared at Fraser around the bag for only an instant before punching a combination on the bag. "I’m just here for the workout," he snapped.

Fraser glanced around the gym. His mind was feeding him ideas, options as it always did, but the nefarious ones he ignored. This one he didn’t. "Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps she’s not coming this morning." Ray stopped punching and straightened his stance before Fraser continued. "Would that make a difference?"

Ray shrugged and started punching again. "No, of course not," he lied.

"Are you sure?" Fraser continued to push. "Perhaps you wanted to see her, to talk to her."

Ray straightened again and stepped away from the bag. "What are you talking about?"

Fraser felt satisfied. He’d certainly managed to get Ray’s attention. "I just thought the two of you might have things to discuss. I assume you didn’t talk to her after she left the Consulate yesterday."

Ray frowned. "None of your business."

"True," Fraser acknowledged. "Still, that might be the reason she isn’t coming this morning."

"You sound sure she’s not. Did she say something?" he asked suddenly.

Fraser cocked his head and looked over Ray’s shoulder. Whatever fun he was having or progress he was making, it was over now.

Tori walked straight through the front doors and into the ladies locker room. She was out in minutes looking to have her gloves and headgear secured.

"Little late this morning," Ray said confrontationally.

Brook said nothing, only waited until the last string was tied and climbed into the ring.

Ray got Brooks with a left hook before she got out her first punch. He noted that he must be improving as he hadn’t been able to get in the first punch before. She psyched him by lifting her right and punching with her left. It was then that he realized she was using her left, even though she’d been a right handed boxer.

Fraser noticed it too. He also noted that when she did use her right, it was weak and she reacted with a scowl on her face – what he could see of her face, anyway.

After only a few minutes of sparring, Ray gave her a series of jabs which she responded to by tapping him with her left, then swinging a forceful right. As soon as she hit him, she grabbed the arm and fell to the mat, spitting out the mouth guard at the same time.

Fraser jumped into the ring and took off her head protection. Ray spit out his mouth guard and fell to his knees beside her.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, I’m fine," she replied through gritted teeth.

Fraser made her sit up, then he started examining the arm.

Ray held out his gloves. "C’mon, get these off me."

Fraser looked at him, but kept feeling Tori’s shoulder. Jim came out from the back and saw them in the ring. "What happened?" he hollered as he ran into the ring.

"I’m fine, guys, get away," she pulled her arm away from Fraser.

Ray held his hands out to Jim. "Take these off, wouldja?" Ray remembered her dropping the car part the day before and it all came together. He'd observed her using her left far more than usual, but didn't actually connect the dots until that moment.

Jim hurried to untie a glove. Ray shook it off, untied the other, then took off his skull guard.

Tori started to feel claustrophobic and jumped up. "I’m fine, guys. I just hurt my arm a little the other day. I thought it was fine."

"Maybe you should get it looked at," Jim suggested.

"It’s ok, really."

Ray untied her gloves for her.

"I’m sorry, Ray. I didn’t mean to ruin today’s fight."

"It’s ok. Look, I’ll drive you to the emergency room."

"Oh, please," she said, making her way to her feet once Fraser untied her gloves. "Quit making such a fuss. I just can’t swing a good punch, that’s all."

"How’d it happen?" Ray pushed.

"Nothing. Really."

Ray gave her a look. "Something was wrong yesterday, too. What happened?" he insisted.

"It was stupid." She looked around and saw they weren’t going to let her leave it at that. "I ran into Squigg again."

"Oh dear," Fraser let slip.

"It was no big deal." She got a nefarious grin. "Except I’ve got him more pissed." She looked up again and saw that Ray was waiting anxiously. "He grabbed my arm and I flipped him over. Knocked him out in front of his new colleague. I guess I pulled something in my arm."

"Or he did," Ray said bitterly.

She smirked. "Anyway, I’ll be fine in a couple days." She headed for the locker room. "Sorry about the match, Ray."

"I said it’s ok," he said, catching up to her. "Look, how about I take you to dinner tonight? To make up for the match?"

"There’s really no need, Ray."

"Come on, just go with me on this one."

Tori looked at him skeptically. "Ok, sure."

***

The next step in the case took Fraser and Ray to the library. Ray had a sour look to fit his mood. They both had art books in front of them in a private study room. They had been to several art galleries, but were only able to get surface information. All of the paintings had been by John Waterhouse so the gallery owners told them of the style, sizes, and techniques of each stolen painting, but nothing they found helpful. That is what brought them to the library.

"Thought I picked a job where I wouldn't need to come to the library," Ray said softly.

"You know, Ray, your aversion to a library is quite astounding."

Ray looked up from the book he was thumbing through. "Huh?"

"As you know, I grew up with my grandparents in Tuktoyaktuk. They ran a library. Well, it was more of a book mobile…"

"What's the point, Fraze?" Ray urged impatiently.

"The point is, daily reading is very important if one wants to expand the mind. When you must survive without daily technology all you have is your mind."

"I read. I read the newspaper every… week. I dunno. It's not the reading, it's the library. Makes me think of homework." He shuddered. "Hated school."

Fraser nodded and went back to his art book. "Hmm."

Ray stood and tried to look at the book. "What hmm?"

"It isn't the book. I just remembered what the woman at the gallery said."

"What?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly what she said. Do you remember her showing us the art by Pross?"

"Huh?"

"The 'up and coming' new artist Alexandra Pross. She showed us several of her…"

Ray shrugged. "Oh yeah… sure."

"The painting she showed us was exactly 27 1/2 inches by 18 1/4 inches."

"So?"

"It's an odd size for a painting. It says here that those are the exact measurements of the painting 'Juliet'."

"Waterhouse?"

"Yes. It also happens to be one of the stolen paintings"

"Coincidence?"

Fraser nodded, but licked his lower lip in thought. "Perhaps. I still think we should look into it."

Ray got on his phone and called the gallery. He managed to get information about the artist. After that, he called Fran and got the address for the artist's studio.

The restaurant was nice, but not too fancy Fraser noted as he and Ray waited for Tori to arrive. When she did, Ray was pleased to see that she was dressed up. He smiled, but it faded when hers did.

Tori looked solemnly at the pair. He hadn’t said anything about the Mountie. Not that she objected to her friend being there, but she’d hoped Ray was offering something more and she’d worn a dress to suggest just that. She plastered a new smile on her face when Fraser stood, then Ray, not wanting to be outdone, quickly stood also.

"Good evening, Ben, Ray." She set a napkin over her lap. "So how was your day?"

"Worky, worky," Ray replied in his sarcastic tone.

She nodded her agreement. "Guess what I heard today?"

Ray chuckled. "You're happy so it must be good. What did you hear?"

Tori just smiled. "Davis Squigg was suspended this morning."

"For what?" Ray asked incredulous.

"He went off the deep end. His new partner kept complaining and they finally did a mental evaluation and Squigg failed." She laughed and took a sip of her water. "I hope they put the bastard in a rubber room until he croaks."

"Is he being institutionalized?" Fraser asked.

"Naw. Rumor is they’ve got him on a drug to calm him down. He might be able to come back to work, but then again, maybe not. Even if he is, it won’t be for months. It’s still pretty damn funny, though, isn’t it?"

Ray cleared his throat. "I don’t know. Won’t be too funny if he comes after you?" Ray leaned in.

"For what? I didn’t have anything to do with it."

"He never really needs an excuse when it comes to you."

"Ok, but what good would it do? He’s got no badge to hide behind, nothing to back him. He can kiss my pearly white butt." She laughed again.

Ray looked at Fraser, who looked back at him.

"Oh, come on guys, stop looking so serious. This is good news!"

Ray smiled finally. "I’m just a little worried."

Brooks shook her head and gave up. She noticed Fraser was looking past her shoulder. "So, Ben, how’s Meg? The Consulate?"

He looked back at her. "Inspector Thatcher remains well. Turnbull remains…" Fraser tipped his head side to side while rolling his eyes.

Brooks curled up one corner of her mouth. "He tries to hard."

Fraser nodded.

"Wine?" the voice broke in and the three nearly jumped as the wine steward gave them a smile.

Ray looked first to Fraser, then shook his head and looked at Tori. "You want to pick?"

She smiled and requested a recommendation, which was gladly offered. She drank three glasses and didn’t notice that Ray took only one sip of his first glass, ignoring it the rest of the meal as he watched her, listened to her, felt her presence and tried to deny what he felt.

After dinner, the three walked to the street and met up with Dief. Fraser opened the passenger door and let Dief in.

"Do you need a ride home?" Ray recalled that she didn’t ride her bike when she was dressed up.

She looked at him a moment, then nodded. "I took a cab here, but I'd like to save the money."

Fraser climbed in back and let Brooks have the front seat. They dropped Fraser at the Consulate first. There was silence following until Ray pulled up in front of her apartment. Their eyes met, then Ray sighed. "I don’t think I’ll walk you up tonight."

She looked at him a moment. She hadn’t really expected him to, but the fact he said it made her wonder. "What are you afraid of, Ray?" she asked, the wine clouding her judgment slightly. She didn’t intend to pick a fight, but only the part that didn’t care knew she was treading on thin ice.

Ray looked at the steering wheel. "Stella…"

She cut him off quickly. "What are you afraid of with me?" He looked into her eyes, but didn’t answer. "I’m not Stella," she added. "I’m not any woman who has ever hurt you before. So, what are you afraid of?"

Ray felt cornered so he scoffed. Tori’s eyes penetrated him and his boyish smile faded away. "I don’t know," he finally replied.

She got out of the car. "I didn’t think you did."

He watched her go inside. Suddenly he felt alone and stupid. He slammed the steering wheel then he punched the roof and drove away.

~~~
Dark and dangerous like a secret that gets whispered in a hush.
When I wake the things I dreamt about you last night make me blush.
When you kiss me like a lover, then you sting me like a viper,
I go follow to the river; play your memory like the piper.
And I feel it like a sickness; how this love is killing me,
But I'd walk into the fingers of your fire willingly.
~~~

Ray was awake most of the night. Bits and pieces of conversations he’d had with Tori, Stella, many others rattled around in his brain. It was a rough night, but when he left for work the next morning, he knew what he had to do. He felt bitter and, as Fraser later noted, it was a slightly more violent day for Ray.

When Ray entered the squad room, followed by Fraser and Dief, he was confronted almost immediately by Francesca.

"Hi Fraser," she said as seductively as usual. "Ray, Welsh wants to talk to you."

Ray nodded and sat at his desk.

"Uh, he'd like to talk to you soon," she said impatiently.

Ray sighed and stood again. "Thanks, Fran."

She looked a little surprised that he hadn’t returned her request with sarcasm and watched him go into Welsh's office.

When Ray entered, he was a little surprised to see Stella sitting across from Welsh. "Uh, am I interrupting?" Welsh shook his head. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah. I got the pressure on here. The Caldwell's are wondering exactly how long it will be before you get their painting back."

Ray shrugged. "I've been busy."

"Busy with the case, I hope."

Ray tipped his head and shrugged again. "Lieutenant, remind me again why I'm searching down a painting when there are murderers running around free as birds?"

Welsh sighed. "I want that painting and a full report right away, Vecchio. I won't ask again."

"Fine," he replied coldly and turned to Stella. "Hi, Stella."

She made a disturbed face. "Hello, Ray."

"Hey, Stella, can I talk to you?"

She put her fist on her waist. "I don’t have time for you right now, Ray. I have to be in court in…" she looked at her watch.

"It will only take a minute." He seemed determined. She stared at him, as did Welsh and Fraser. "Alone?" he said at last.

"Fine," Stella said, then started to follow him toward the currently quiet lunchroom. "Look, Ray, I don’t really have time to deal with you. I don’t know why you’re bringing this up again, but you know we have to remain professional. We’re not married anymore and we never will be again so…"

"Ok, stop talking," Ray said in a tone that reflected his annoyance with her at that moment. "Look, here’s the deal of the thing, ok? I’ve been running around like a lovesick teenager because I still love you.…"

"Ray," she interrupted.

"No. I’m not done, ok? I just need to tell you something. Maybe it’s for me, maybe it’s not, but I’m going to say it anyway. I just thought I was still supposed to love you. I don't even know anymore. The thing is, I don’t have room for you anymore." He noticed she looked confused and put his hand over his heart. "I don’t have enough room. I will always love you, you know that. I have to try something else. I have to stop thinking of you as this perfect woman."

She looked dumbfounded for a moment before she spoke again. "What’s her name?" she said sourly.

Ray shook his head. "First of all, there doesn’t have to be anyone for me to be sick of this situation, ok? All you do is berate me and I let you because I thought you had to be right. Second, what are you so angry about?"

She thought about it a moment. "I’m sorry," she said simply. "I suppose it’s habit."

"We’re a couple of bad habits for each other, Stella," Ray said quietly, then cleared his throat. "So I’m going to try not to love you and I’m going to try not to bother you."

She pondered a moment. "Maybe I can try not to be around so much."

"Thanks, Stella. That’d make it easier for me."

She nodded, "I guess I’ll discuss things through Welsh when I can."

As Ray headed back toward his desk, he saw Fraser waiting patiently. "Ok, Fraser. Let's go talk to that artist."

As Fraser and Ray pulled up in front of the tall building, Ray re-checked the address he'd gotten from Francesca. It was a very nice business building surrounded only by other business buildings. "Weird. There can't be an artist studio in there."

Ray flipped open his small phone and called Frannie. "Fran. You gave me an address for a …" he looked at Fraser who repeated the name again. "Alexandra Pross. Check it again, wouldja?"

"Ok," Fran said with a sigh. He could hear clicking of keys through the phone as she spoke. "What'd you lose it already? I could get a lot more done around here if you'd… here it is." She read him what was on her screen.

"It's a big office building," he informed her.

"I dunno, Ray. That's where the payments for her paintings go. That's all I've got on her."

"Thanks," he said as he hung up. He furrowed his brow in confusion, then shrugged.

"Is something wrong?" Fraser asked.

"Nah. Just queer. Let's go in."

***

Tori’s eye was caught by the black GTO parked outside of the office building when she pulled up. She looked over and saw Ray and Fraser walking into the building. She hurried off her bike and ran inside.

"Hold the elevator," Ray heard as the doors started to close.

Fraser pushed in the ‘DOOR OPEN’ button and Ray watched the doors slide open to reveal Tori hurrying their way, helmet under her arm.

"Uh, hi. What are you doing here?" she said, unsure.

"Lead on that art theft."

"Oh? The buyer work here?"

"Nope. The artist has her payments sent here and has it registered as her studio."

"Here? That can't be right." She looked at the piece of paper he held, proving this was the address. "Talked to whoever works in that suite yet?"

Ray raised an eyebrow. "That's where we're headed." He paused. "And you?"

"I got a message at work today. Apparently a guy I used to know is working here. Asked me up for lunch."

Ray nodded. He watched the numbers tick away, then noticed it didn’t stop on their floor. "What the…?" he pushed in the rest of the buttons, but it continued it’s ascent. All at once, the elevator stopped and they heard a noise from the elevator shaft. Ray and Fraser pried the doors open, but were faced only with wall. It had stopped directly between floors. "Hmm," Ray let out with a breath. The three started looking around the small space.

"Lift me," Brooks demanded after a moment as she stared at the access panel.

"I don’t know if that’s such a good idea," Ray said.

"Why not? I’ll climb up there and we’ll get through the floor above. You got a better idea?"

Ray shrugged. "No."

Ray and Fraser boosted her up and she pushed the panel up and to the side. Her head poked through as she moved onto Fraser’s shoulders.

"Shit," she said with a nervous laugh and then climbed up. She popped her head back down. "Either of you know how to deactivate a bomb?"

"What!?" Ray said quickly, then breathed out. "Very funny."

"I wish I was kidding, but we don’t have time. It’s counting down," she said. "Hurry."

Fraser gave Ray a boost, then Tori and Ray reached through to pull Fraser up. Fraser looked at the device she motioned to for a long time while Ray called the bomb squad. They saw that there were only five minutes left on the timer. Fraser identified each component for Ray. Ray described what he saw, then related what he was being told.

"Good news. It’s a small bomb. It won’t blow up the whole building, just us and a few feet around the elevators," he said softly.

Tori smiled nervously. "So what do we do?"

"Got something sharp? He says we need 2 sharp things. Scissors are best."

Fraser pulled out a multi purpose knife. "Well, I’ve got scissors and a knife, but…" he held it up to show they couldn’t be used simultaneously.

Tori reached around in her pockets and finally produced a Swiss Army Knife. She started pulling things out until she found scissors. "Thank goodness for gifts from friends, huh?"

Ray swallowed, beginning to feel the pressure.

"Ok," Ray continued. "The one that hooks into the clock and the one that hooks into that black box need to be cut at the same time, then you cut the other two at the same time."

Fraser and Brooks nodded, counted together, then clipped. The clock turned off, but they could hear ticking.

"We're supposed to hear that ticking," Ray said. "Now we clip the other two."

They set up for the next cut, counted together, and clipped again. The ticking stopped and Tori took a gasping breath. "I forgot to breath," she said uneasily.

They stood and looked up the shaft. There were rails along the sides for maintenance access. Fraser and Ray went first and pulled at the doors of the next floor, but they wouldn't budge. They started looking around and messing with everything around in hopes of finding a release. Something they pressed triggered the door and it opened slowly. The three climbed out onto the landing.

"Ok, whoever it was went out above us, correct?" Tori asked and Ray agreed. "In case I doubt he’s not out of the building, we’d better check things out. Twelve stories, three of us, ok. So Ray takes 1-4, Fraser gets 5-8, and I’ll take 9-12."

They nodded and hurried to the stairs.

Ray started on the first floor and made his way up to 4. Fraser started on 8 and came down, meeting Ray on 5.

"Up, then?" Ray asked.

"Yes, we’ll meet up with Detective Brooks on the twelfth floor."

They ran up the stairs and as they got to the twelfth floor, they saw the door marked ‘roof access’ closing. They ran to the door and as they hurried up the stairs, they saw the door above them closing.

Fraser made it to the door first and swung it open. Ray followed him out and they saw a man looking over the edge. They looked around and didn’t see Brooks. Ray pulled his gun. "Freeze!" he hollered.

The man saw them and went running. Fraser and Ray looked around, but they couldn't see Tori. Fraser's eye was caught by something strange on the edge of the wall where the man had been. Ray was about to run after the man when he noticed Fraser run over to the wall. As they got closer, they realized it was fingers. Tori hung from the edge of the wall, terror in her eyes. She looked up and her feet were flailing.

"I’ve got her," Fraser said, grabbing her arm. "Go get the…"

"No!" Ray yelled and grabbed her other arm. "You go."

"I am capable of…"

"Me too…"

Brooks looked more panicked. "Ok, guys, I’m flattered. Now HELP ME!"

The police sirens sounded below as several cars and a few from the bomb squad division pulled up to the side of the building. The very small people below scurried around in many directions.

Fraser tried to pull, but the angle made it impossible. "You’re going to have to grab my arm, then Ray’s."

She swallowed. "I can’t."

"Look in my eyes, Tori," Fraser said. "You must stop swinging your legs and grab on."

She tried to hold still as she glanced down and then squeezed her eyes shut. "I can’t, I’ll fall."

"We won’t let you," Ray added. "One hand at a time, ok?"

She swallowed again and grabbed Fraser’s arm. She looked at the other hand. "I… I can’t. It’s the only thing holding on anymore."

Ray leaned over slightly and grabbed her arm tighter. "You have to trust me. I won’t let you fall."

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and grabbed hold.

Ray and Fraser started walking backwards. Just as she came over the edge, Ray lost his balance and the chain reaction landed them all on the ground. Ray and Tori landed right beside each other and Fraser landed a few feet away. Ray looked at Tori and as their eyes met, a conversation was practically spoken. Fraser came over and started to help Tori up, ending their look. She brushed herself off and Ray jumped up, brushing himself off also.

Fraser turned his hat in his hands. "I have often been faced with a similar situation. The first time I was hanging from a cliff in the woods. It changes you. It leaves you with an appreciation for life." No one said anything so he continued. "Often people tend to feel the need to live life to the fullest after such an experience."

Brooks stopped. "It wasn’t a big deal, Fraser. I’m fine."

They walked together in silence back to the door eventually leading them from the building.

~~~
And every time I'm close to you,
There's too much I can't say,
And you just walk away.
And I forgot to tell you
I love you.
And the night's too long
And cold here without you.
I grieve in my condition,
For I cannot find the words to say
I need you so.
~~~

Tori unlaced her boots with a sigh. Her head was a blur. Everyone had told her what Fraser had been quick to note -- near death experience = carpe diem. She was feeling ready to be away from people. Still in shock about the whole thing, Tori didn’t know about this "living life to the fullest" advice, but she did know that she had the shit scared out of her. She took an aspirin and lay on the couch. The instant she closed her eyes she saw the sidewalk more than 120 feet below. Sitting up straight, she opened her eyes and knew she wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Sauntering to it, she took in a deep breath. Who could it be? She was certainly wasn’t up to visitors and she considered not answering. Still, she’d made it this far. She opened it and saw Ray. Their eyes met and she melted.

"I can’t believe…" he began.

"I know," she breathed.

He came at her, kicking the door closed behind him. He knew closing it kept him from changing his mind and her from throwing him out. Ray pressed his lips and body against hers, backing her to the wall. She let out a gasp and threw her arms around him. He put his arms around her waist and deepened the kiss, feeling her gentle lips with his tongue. She felt a shiver down her spine and his embrace tightened as he lifted her feet from the floor, then he carried her into the bedroom.

~~~
No need to talk like a hero
Talk a walk, count down to zero
No sense defending your honor
Just go on and kiss him if you wanna
Everything before is gone or is going somewhere

I guess I'm taking my chances
Giving up the ring throwing in the gloves
I guess I'm taking my chances
Trading in my things for a couple wings on a
Little white dove
And one big love, one big love.

I don't know where we are
And I don't care
And now we're out of gas
And riding on air
And one big love, one big love
~~~

It was dawn when the alarm clock buzzed, waking Ray and Tori at the same time. They were still in each other’s arms and as realization hit her, Tori smiled. Ray ran his finger over the tattoo of the fairy stabbing the dragon and returned her smile, moving onto his stomach. "What’s this?" he asked softly as he gently kissed it.

She watched him. "What does it look like?"

"No, I mean, does it mean anything?"

She smiled a little. "Oh, yes. It does. Uh, the dragon represents the bad things in this world, like doubt," she paused. "And fear and hate and the negative words people use. It’s blue because the police academy was my biggest hurdle in overcoming those things." She sighed. "It’s on the upper arm to show strength. The fairy just means that a small feminine thing like me can be tough enough."

Ray smiled at her. "Really?" He was a little doubtful of such a story.

"Yes," she replied.

He pushed back the blankets to reveal the sun around her navel. He raised his eyebrows, "Well, if that one really means what you said, then this must mean something too." He kissed it as she explained.

"Ah, that was my first. I wanted to remind myself and others that no matter what is on the outside, the center of my being is good. I am a source of light."

Ray raised just one eyebrow at the end. "Isn’t that a little, I dunno, silly?"

"Probably," she laughed softly. "It started with the sun and somehow got out of hand, I guess. I felt like I needed these constant reminders."

Ray nodded and went to the butterflies on her leg. He waited.

"I am free like a butterfly. They carry me from place to place. I had that one done right before I met you – when I left the last precinct."

He kissed it gently as he had the others, then ran his tongue seductively up her body before kissing her lips. When he got there, her eyes were closed and she had a gentle smile. "So how are the purple streak and the belly ring symbols?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Uh, don't you think they make me look good?"

Ray laughed a little and kissed Tori’s forehead. She held his jaw and kissed his mouth gently. After a moment, she dropped her head back to the pillow and touched his upper arm. "So what is a Champion spark plug tattoo supposed to symbolize?"

Ray smiled and lifted his head, looking thoughtfully at the window as the sun lit his face. He looked back at her with a smile and a chuckle as he spoke. "Don’t get too drunk at your bachelor party?" he replied. Giving her only a moment to laugh, he stopped her with another kiss. Just as she thought he was going to kiss her ear, she heard his soft voice. "Mind if I use your shower?"

Tori furrowed her brow at the request. She was just getting started again and he wanted a shower? "I suppose if you’ve had your way with me," she said playfully.

Ray smiled and kissed her jaw line. She grabbed his head and moved her mouth beneath his, kissing him with all the passion she could muster. He didn’t respond for a moment, but finally gave in to the temptation of her body. As his smooth lips worked their way down against her neck, she smiled and put her fingers in his hair. He pushed his hands beneath her and embraced her, tonguing her skin and smelling her gentle scent. Moving to his knees, he leaned over her and kissed at her breast. The angle put his shoulder close enough that she lifted her head and gently suckled it.

Feeling her temperature rise, she watched him this time, the sunlight glistening from his body. She could see his every move as he showed his affection, moving slowly and deliberately. She rubbed his back and licked his earlobe, accepting every sensation.

Finally he moved beside her and lay softly against her. She put an arm over his chest and trickled her fingers over the smooth skin. After several minutes, she felt and heard his movement. Moving to her elbow, she watched him looking at the clock. "I’ll be late," he said quickly, then gave her a quick kiss before disappearing into the bathroom.

Tori stared at the door and clutched some of the sheet to her chest. She felt dizzy, and a little concerned. She feared the big words like ‘marriage’ and ‘family’, but at the same time, she had picked up that Ray wanted those things. She knew it was very early to worry about a proposal so she pushed it from her mind, rolled over, and closed her eyes.

A few minutes later, Ray came out, a towel clutched at his waist. She watched him lean over to grab his clothing and a drip from his hair caught the sunlight. He said nothing as he dropped the towel and stepped into his boxers, then his jeans. Watching him button the fly, she smiled. He looked up then and noticed her staring. He smiled.

"Ray?"

"Mmm?" he mumbled, going back to work on the buttons.

"Now what?" she said softly.

He grabbed his socks and began to untwist one. "What do you mean?"

"I’m just wondering what happens now, between us. I mean, we’re obviously past friendship."

He sat beside her on the bed and took her hand. "I don’t know." He added a smile that tried to charm her.

Instead she found herself annoyed. Still grasping his hand, she sat up. "What does that mean?"

He shrugged and stared at her for several seconds. "I don't know." He leaned over and gave her a deep kiss. When he sat back, he saw the question still in her eyes. He wanted to tell her about his last conversation with Stella, about the fact that he'd opened the way to let her in. He wanted to say that he cared for her deeply. He wanted to tell her so many things. Unfortunately, what he chose to say turned out to be more harmful than helpful. "I've thought about some things. Last night I was watching you sleep and I just realized that I was focusing on the wrong things. I can't hold Fraser over you anymore. We've shared so much more. I haven't even thought about it since I realized how I felt about you."

Tori furrowed her brow and let everything sink in. Later she would realize she should have asked how he felt or shared how she felt, but instead she went right to what bothered her. "If you weren't thinking about Fraser, why'd you just bring him up?"

"I was only saying it isn't an issue." Ray held her hand a moment longer.

"But you just made it an issue again," she argued.

"I didn't mean to. Look, can we forget I said that? I just meant you’re more important than that." He paused when he saw she still looked angry. "You’re more important than anything."

Tori couldn’t resist keeping the tension, going right for the jugular. "And Stella? More important than her?" She let out a chuckle and turned away. "No, I’ll never be more important than that."

He began to feel defensive. "How am I supposed to answer that? Anything I say will just end up hurting you, won't it?" He paused, then let out a long, audible breath. "If you’ll agree to a clean slate about Stella, I will about Fraze."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I told Stella off so I could be with you without it hanging over me… or us. If you’ll let that go, I’ll try harder not to mention the thing with Fraser."

Tori was shocked. What had he done to Stella? She paused. She still didn’t know where she stood with him. Obviously it was high enough that he’d do something very difficult for her, but then he had turned around and said he didn’t know where they stood. She furrowed his brow. "Does this mean you’re going to call? We’re going to date? You’ve lost me," she said finally.

"I lost myself," he responded quietly, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"Look, I don’t need this. Christ, Brooks. I came here because… because…" He struggled as he formed the words through gritted teeth, then grabbed his boots and stopped talking.

"Why?" she asked, pushing him to continue, hope playing in her heart that he would say the words she needed to hear.

Ray shrugged pursed his lips. He looked into the begging eyes and turned away. "I don’t know." He stepped to the doorway, but her voice stopped him.

"What?" she breathed.

"I said I don’t know what I’m doing here," he admitted quietly, pulling on one boot and letting the other hang from his hand. He gave her one more look, pulled on the other boot, and walked out the door.

Tori stayed in bed for a few more minutes before readying herself for work. At first she thought he’d found the truth, but it was there in her lonely apartment that she realized that was the truth she was afraid of. She was afraid she’d fallen in love and that he didn’t return it. Maybe it was stupid, but if he’d come here for something more than sex, he hadn’t said it, not even when pushed. She swallowed the lump in her throat and closed her eyes, shutting it all out. She stayed like that for quite some time before finally getting up and dressing for work.

~~~
Gone like the broken words at your feet
You're gone in the venom lips that kiss me sweetly
Gone like a frightened bird into the sky
Won't you take everything I ever had
and leave me to die as I cry?
~~~

Ray sat at his desk, phone to his ear. Huey and Dewey walked up to him as he hung up.

"What'd you find out?" Huey asked.

"Nothing much. His name's John Miller, but the guy's not talking," Ray replied.

"He got a record?" Dewey inquired.

Ray shrugged. "Don’t yet. All we got is a description on Tori… Detective Brooks' motorcycle and the address of the building. They found those on the back of her picture."

"So we're pretty sure it's a hit on her, huh?" Dewey said as though he was thinking aloud.

"Oh, yeah," Ray affirmed. "No question. He messed with the wiring of the elevator and the bomb was pretty pro. Problem here is that it's not my case. I have to watch this whole thing from the sidelines."

A quiet "hello" came from behind the boys. They stepped aside. When they saw that it was Stella, they disappeared as quickly as possible. Ray looked up and saw her standing before him with a file. He looked disappointed.

"I got this file first thing this morning and thought I should come see you." She dropped it before him.

He flipped it open and saw it was on John Miller.

"I heard some people talking. Heard you were with her when it all happened. Heard about, well, there are a lot of rumors. You ok?"

Ray simply nodded, but didn't make a sound.

"I came down here to talk to you, see if you know anything that can help."

He looked past her to see Fraser approaching. Fraser stopped when he saw Stella standing at the desk so Ray stood and passed her. "Fraze, glad you're here. I need to get my mind off… things. Let's go back to that Pross artists address and get this art theft thing taken care of."

Fraser simply nodded and followed Ray from the precinct, a tad confused.

***

They arrived in front of the office building again. Ray took a deep breath before getting out of the car and let it out slowly as they started inside.

The door to the suite opened as they neared it. Fraser hurried ahead and held the door open for the woman carrying a mailbag. He stayed and held the door for Ray, then followed. Ray flashed his badge at the woman behind the desk. "Alexandra Pross?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "That would be handled by Mr. Simon Mortalis. He's down the hall, last door to the left."

"Handled by? What does that mean? He like an agent?" Ray queried.

She shook her head. "Not really," the phone rang and she put her hand on it. "He can explain it better." She turned away from them and picked up. "Dotek Investments. How may I direct your call?"

Ray and Fraser walked down the hall and found the last door on the left was wide open. The gentleman at the desk wore an expensive suit. His smile disappeared when he took a good look at the two men before him. "Yes?" he said coldly.

Ray showed his badge again. "Detective Vecchio. This is Constable Fraser. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"In regards to…?"

"Alexandra Pross," Ray replied. "Her checks are being sent here for her paintings. It's listed as her studio. Why's that?"

The man walked to the door, closed it, and offered them seats across from his desk. He then sat back behind the desk and folded his hands. "We offer a certain," he paused to choose his words. "A specific service to our clients. Many of these artists stay in abandoned lofts, sometimes condemned properties which is, of course, illegal. We find buyers for their works and one of the things they get in exchange is that they get to have their mail sent to a reputable place."

"Hm," Ray began. "And how do you make money?"

"A percentage of their sales, of course."

"So you're an agent? Like for actors and writers?"

"Essentially," he replied. "The difference is that artists are a newer, untapped market. Very lucrative. Of course the company deals in other investments, but we cater to a very particular type of customer."

"You mean rich," Ray filled in.

The man simply nodded. "Will that be all?"

Fraser and Ray stood. "I guess," Ray said and opened the door.

Fraser noticed a pile of artist canvases somewhat hidden behind a filing cabinet. He tried to determine the reason for having them there, but couldn't.

"Before we go, I'd like to know where I can find Ms. Pross."

The man shook his head. "I don't think I can tell you."

Ray shifted. "Why not? I just need to speak with her. I don't care if she's on some abandoned property or anything."

"Don't you?" Mr. Mortalis questioned. "I find that hard to believe."

"I just need to talk to her, ok?"

Simon looked at them for several seconds, then scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Ray. "You have to go up to the third floor."

***

When they stepped onto the landing of the third floor they could smell paint. It was obvious the place hadn't been painted in many years so Fraser and Ray walked toward the smell. As they walked along the hallway, they came to an opening which took a huge amount of floor space. Looking around they were met by canvases, paintings, a ruffled bed, and a humble easel. The easel was angled so that the canvas on it got direct sunlight. Fraser walked around and looked at the front of the painting. It was a half finished abstract work. Just as he leaned in he heard a voice behind him and spun.

"Can I help you?"

Ray turned also to face the voice. A woman in her mid thirties stood before them in a severely dirty smock.

Ray smiled a little. "Mr. Mortalis sent us. I have a few questions about your art."

She smiled in return. "Would you like to buy something?"

"No, nothing like that. You are Alexandra Pross?"

She nodded.

"We saw one of your paintings and had some questions."

"What kind of questions?"

"Uh, we noticed that one in particular is the exact size of a painting by John Waterhouse that was recently stolen."

She furrowed her brow. "A lot of paintings are the same size."

Fraser interrupted. "This one was 27 1/2 by 18 1/4 inches. It is a very odd size."

She shrugged. "My canvases are blank when I paint on them. None of that painting over master pieces stuff," she replied.

Fraser nodded and began thumbing through her canvases.

"Can I help you find something?" she asked almost defensively.

Fraser shook his head and Ray continued. "Why do you paint those still life paintings. The gallery owner says she can't get as much for them."

She shrugged again. "I don't know. I just like to paint them. Mr. Mortalis told me I should paint them if that's what I like. He says it is ok that they don't sell for as much."

"And why do you live here if the other paintings are selling?" he inquired.

"It is a more expensive occupation than you might think," she said. "I have to buy paint and brushes and easels. They are all very expensive. Plus I have to eat and things like that." She paused. "I just paint and give them to the galleries. Mr. Mortalis is handling the money. He sold one recently that will give me enough money to get an apartment."

"What about the canvases," Fraser cut in.

"Excuse me?"

"The canvases," he replied. "You mentioned paint and brushes, but I'm sure canvases are expensive also." Fraser pulled out a blank canvas and examined it. "Do you make your own canvases?"

"I used to, but Mr. Mortalis provides them now."

"And you don't wonder why he gives them to you?" Ray asked.

She looked annoyed. "He explained that. He says he gets a deal. He gives them to me and tells me what kind of paintings I should do."

Fraser pulled on his ear. "Do you mean he specifies what type of painting to do on certain canvases?"

She nodded. "He says that some sizes sell better than others so it is to my advantage. He told me it helps him sell them for higher prices so I can get out of this dump. Then he tells me to paint still life on the junk canvases," she paused. "The ones he got for cheap because it won't make much difference anyway.

"Hm," Fraser said. "We can go."

Ray shrugged. "Huh? Why can we go?"

"It is Mr. Mortalis we need to speak with," Fraser replied simply.

"Again?"

Fraser nodded. "Thank you, kindly, ma'am. May I take this canvas with me?"

She folded her arms. "You want one of my canvases? No painting?"

"No paint is necessary."

"Hundred bucks," she replied.

"Ray," Fraser nudged.

Ray began to open his wallet. "$100? Why am I giving her that much for that? She should paint something on it first." He handed over the money.

They walked out of the building and to the car. Fraser leaned the picture against the GTO. Ray watched as Fraser pulled up a corner of the fabric covering the frame. He pulled it away, revealing another layer of canvas -- with a painting on it. They both looked at it and saw the signature in the corner. JW Waterhouse.

Ray's eye's opened wide. "The paintings are underneath?"

Fraser nodded. "He's carefully recovering them and giving them to her."

They put the painting in the trunk and began to drive back to the station.

"Amazing," Ray replied. "Pretty tricky. Why would he do that? Parade them in public that way?"

"Well, they are well hidden," Fraser said in thought. "I believe the question is not about parading them in public. He specifically intends to have them not sell easily by having her less desired still life paintings on them."

"I'm confused, Fraze. What does that accomplish?"

"They always end up sold, correct? It seems most likely that he controls the selling price, then he sends a buyer to buy them at that price."

"So it's a set up?"

Fraser nodded. "Once the buyer picks it up for a small fee, a legitimate fee, he is free to take it home and own an original painting by a famous artist."

Ray shifted on his feet. "Ok, so he has the painting, he covers it, has her paint on it, then sells it? That's dumb. Why doesn't he just do a trade in his office or something."

Fraser paused a moment. "Only one thing makes sense to me. Customs."

"Huh?"

"In order for a painting to go through customs, the buyer needs a reputable receipt. This way a buyer from another country can take the piece home."

"So it's not just Mortalis, it's the buyer too?"

Fraser nodded. "I expect a foreign buyer willing to bankroll the theft is willing to make the small purchase at the gallery in order to have the painting in their hands."

It all came together for Ray. It made perfect sense. The checks for large amounts came to Mortalis who only cut in Pross for a small amount. Another small amount went to the person who was willing to steal the painting, but how did Mr. Caldwell fit in? His wife had made it clear that he had been very insistent on the purchase of that painting.

He turned the car around and headed to the Caldwell mansion.

***

Ray and Fraser stood in the entryway waiting to see either Mr. or Mrs. Caldwell. Ray began to twist his hands when Mr. Caldwell approached.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah," Ray replied. "I'm Detective Vecchio. This is Constable Fraser. We spoke with your wife, but we'd like to ask you a few questions."

Mr. Caldwell led them to the room where they had been before. The three sat on the oversized seats.

"Mr. Caldwell," Ray began. "I don't want to waste your time, so I'll get right to the point. Why were you so insistent on the purchase of the Waterhouse?"

Mr. Caldwell stared blankly for a moment. "Waterhouse is a favourite artist of mine."

Ray tipped his head. "From what I've seen, he painted feminine stuff. Flowing dresses and that kind of thing."

"True I suppose. I felt it suited the décor."

Ray shook his head. "Your wife pointed out to us that it was different to everything else."

The man straightened and cleared his throat. "I felt it was a good investment."

"Why?" Ray jumped in.

Mr. Caldwell waited a moment before answering. "Because I had heard about the other robberies. I heard that there is this surge of interest in Waterhouse and that is why the paintings were being stolen. I thought I could get in on it. We got it at an auction and the price was good. I thought I could sell it soon to one of these European yuppies and make back twice the money."

"You knew about the robberies and you didn't put it someplace more safe?"

"I have an excellent security system. I was certain no one could get past it," he replied. "I see I was wrong. Look, Detective, it may have been a strange move, but I have a very… set way of life here. I didn't get here by avoiding chances and investing in one certain thing."

Ray nodded. "All right. One more question. Most of the people who had paintings stolen hired PI's. Why didn't you?"

"Because the people who hired Private Investigators don't have their paintings back. I felt I should try something else. Especially since I have friends in the department who have promised that I will be satisfied with the results. They better be right."

Ray stared at him. "I do my job, Mr. Caldwell. Don't worry. You'll have your precious painting."

Mr. Caldwell stood. "I'm not sure I appreciate…"

Ray stood and challenged him. "I don't appreciate you. You sit up here in your little house all high and mighty, calling in favours. I don't like it when people call in favours, ok? I don't like it when I get pulled off murder investigations so I can find a measly painting."

"Get out." Mr. Caldwell demanded. "Get out right now!"

"My pleasure," Ray replied with a growl.

Fraser followed him out. "Ray," he began as they got into his car. "I'm not sure that was productive."

Ray scowled. "I'm so tired of this, Fraser. I'm tired of people treating me like… like…" he let the sentence trail as he sped away.

A few moments later his phone rang. He reached in his pocket and handed it to Fraser. "Detective Vecchio's cellular telephone. This is Constable…"

The voice was loud enough Ray could hear that it was Welsh. "You and the Detective better be in my office in TEN MINUTES!" Then there was a click. Fraser returned the phone to Ray.

As the two stepped into the squad room, Ray went straight to Francesca. "Hey Frannie."

"What do you want?" she said without looking up from the computer.

"I need you to pull up some records," he replied. "Simon Mortalis and Alexandra Pross. Also I need you to see if any of those paintings have shown up in Europe."

"Now how on earth am I supposed to do that?" she asked as she sat back in her chair.

"Vecchio!" Welsh hollered from the doorway to his office.

"Uh, gotta go," he said with a smile. "Be creative."

Welsh's face was red. "I got a call from Mr. Caldwell." He paused to take a breath. "Would you like to explain just what you were thinking?"

Ray cleared his throat. "Uh," he paused and watched Welsh's face get redder. "You know, I'm just thinking about all the unsolved murders and…"

"Look, Detective. I know this is beneath you, but I have my orders and my job is to make sure you carry them out."

"I know, sir. I'm sorry. We've got it under control. I think we’ve about got it all figured out." He looked out the window and saw Frannie turn to him with a thumbs up.

"Oh? Care to enlighten me?"

Ray made his way to the door. "Can't right now, Lieutenant. Gotta go solve this case." He left before Welsh could stop him.

He took the paper Frannie held out to him and read as she spoke. "Simon has been arrested several times for dealing in stolen sculptures. Never been convicted, though. Pross has nothing. I even found a painting." She handed him another page. "One painting was spotted in London."

Ray had all he needed. The case now involved international affairs. He made his report and took it to Welsh.

***

Tori sat quietly in her apartment staring out the window. She held her lease in her hand and let out a long breath. The message on her machine was supposed to be good news. Her landlord informed her that they had found a new tenant, therefore she was willing to end the lease with no repercussions. Tori already had a new apartment and the boxes lined the walls. She set the stapled pages of the lease on the floor and pulled her feet up on the couch.

It had been six weeks since he’d walked out of the door and out of her life. This morning she’d gone to the doctor, an appointment made two months ago, a regular check up. Describing her weariness, she told him she felt nauseous because she hadn’t been able to sleep. Citing "personal problems" as the cause, she’d refused the pregnancy test. Still, he’d insisted and somewhere in her, the denial was strong enough that she honestly believed it would some back negative.

She had seen Ray several times when she was at the gym practicing her moves. He always hid around corners or down the street. Many times he casually walked past the building and looked in the windows and once he’d come inside. She’d pretended not to notice. She was too hurt to deal with him. ‘If only he had called me back, just once. If only…’ It did her no good.

Now, though, there was a whole new factor. She couldn’t decide if she’d tell him. She was afraid to tell him her plans, the decisions she’d come to on her own. Still, she was better off being honest, she’d told herself, but didn’t think she had the strength to do it.

The sun neared the horizon and she watched the colours dance on clouds across the sky. She wanted to smile at the beauty, but it just sent her into tears. Having lost contact with her only friend, she felt it hurt too much to talk to Fraser. Now she wondered why after all this time he hadn’t called her either. Feeling the dark loneliness, she picked up the phone. Dialing the number, it soon began to ring, but she quickly hung up. No. A phone call wouldn’t do.

***

It had been six weeks since the last time Ray had spoken with Tori. Images of her filled his mind as he sat behind his desk and stared at the phone. He held a card in his hand with her phone number on it, but he couldn’t bring himself to dial.

That first week, she’d left three messages at his house for him. He didn’t even listen to them, he just erased them. She didn’t call again for two weeks and when she did, she’d called and left the message with Frannie.

Fraser stepped up to Ray's desk and sat on a chair across from him. He saw that Ray was preoccupied so he simply waited until he was finally noticed.

"Hi, Fraze. What can I do for ya?"

"Nothing." Fraser watched him for a moment. "I see you are still avoiding the boxing ring?"

Ray sighed and dropped the card. "Actually, I was there this morning." Fraser raised his eyebrows and Ray continued. "We didn’t box."

Francesca sauntered over and joined them.

Ray glanced, but made no acknowledgment. "She still goes there on Monday’s and Friday’s for practice. I watched her today."

"Isn’t that a little creepy?" Fran jumped in.

"Shut up!" Ray said defensively.

"Ray," Fraser cut in. "Why haven’t you called her?"

Ray turned away, ashamed. "Isn’t there a case I should be working on?"

"Probably," Frannie said. "Personally, I think you should spill the dust."

Ray looked disgusted and quietly said, "Dirt, Frannie. It’s dirt."

"Whatever it is, Ray, I want to know what happened."

Ray looked around and Frannie sat on the edge of his desk. "It’s none of your business."

"You have to tell me," she insisted.

"No, I don't," he replied and pushed her off the desk.

"Fine," she snapped. "But don't you come crawling to me when you have a question about woman stuff."

Ray sneered. "Don't worry. I won't." He sighed and turned to Fraser who simply stared back. Ray leaned back. "I’m going to call her, really I am. I just want to think of what I want to say first." He remembered back to what he had said. "Why do I always ruin everything?"

Fraser shifted. "Well, Ray, the only way you can make this situation better is to speak with Detective Brooks."

Ray sighed. "Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut?"

Fraser shook his head.

Frowning, Ray’s eyes met Fraser’s, then he straightened. "Hey, you two are buddies." He paused. "I know you don’t want to tell me, but you have to. What’s she said about me?"

Fraser cleared his throat. "I’m afraid we haven’t spoken for quite some time."

Ray furrowed his brow. "Why not?"

"I expected her to call me, but I felt it necessary to give her space. The two of you were having trouble enough without my interference."

Ray scoffed. "To say the least," he said. "Still, two of you are friends."

Fraser nodded. "I just expected her to call me if she needed anything."

"Oh," Ray replied. "So, you’re no help." After several moments, Ray picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card.

"Detective Brooks," came the voice through the phone.

He waited, unable to speak.

"This is Detective Brooks," she paused. "Speak!"

"Uh, hi," Ray replied softly and cleared his throat.

There was a brief pause. "Oh, Ray. I'm glad you called. I was afraid I'd miss you."

"Miss me?"

"Well, I'm sorry to dump this on you, but I'm moving. Being transferred."

"Huh?"

"I'm leaving Chicago. I'm leaving Illinois. I'm going through some training so I can be a detective in New York."

"What?"

"You heard me, Ray. Look. I'm sorry. I have to go. My partner and I are on our way back to the station and I have a lot of paperwork to do before I leave. I'll see you." Click.

Ray sat there for a minute and listened to the dead air before hanging up. As he stood and headed for his car, he rubbed his temple.

"Where are we going?" Fraser asked as he climbed in with Ray.

"Dunno, for sure."

"Hmm."

"I don’t want to hear your ‘hmm’, Fraser. Keep it to yourself."

"You know, Ray, you really only have two options. You either call Detective Brooks again and apologize…"

"I’m not going to call her back."

"…or you learn to live with yourself."

"That's not the problem, Fraser. She's leaving."

Fraser looked inquisitive.

Ray noticed. "She's moving to New York. She's as good as gone." He smacked his car. "She's leaving me for good. I really messed it up."

***

Tori hung up the cell phone and glanced at her partner.

"That him?" he asked.

Tori nodded. She was sitting at her desk and her partner sat across from her. She let out a long breath.

"You told him you’re leaving? What did he say?"

"He said ‘What?’"

"You still haven’t told him about the baby, have you?"

She shook her head and felt the tension building in her eyes. She couldn’t let everyone in the precinct see her so she stood. "I have to go to the can," she said brusquely and disappeared. Once in the safety of a stall, she began to cry.

~~~
I tell you how I feel, but you don't care
I say tell me the truth, but you don't dare
You say love is a hell you cannot bear
And I say gimme mine back and then go there - for all I care
I got my feet on the ground and I don't go to steep to dream
You got your head in the clouds and you're not at all what you seem
This mind, this body, and this voice cannot be stifled by your deviant ways
So don't forget what I told you, don't come around, I got my own hell to raise

The End