Author's Website: https://www.squidge.org/~pumpkin/cara/caraindex.html

Disclaimer: Alliance owns them. All hail mighty Alliance, in deference to whom we make no profit!

Author's Notes: For Fuzzicat, to make up for "Stanley Raymond Vecchio." Thanks to Bas for a most helpful beta. :)

Story Notes:

The Canada summer day was bright and warm-- by Canadian standards, which meant the thermometer actually made it over fifty. Maybe even sixty. Ray wasn't sure because the one Fraser had measured in centigrade.

Sunlight streamed in through the cabin's small front windows, one beam resting across the rumpled blankets of the narrow bed where he lay alone. Of course Fraser was already up and about; even in the city he rose with the dawn every morning to take Diefenbaker for a long walk or a run, and back here in Canada those expeditions took even longer as both man and wolf enjoyed their native land.

Ray rolled onto his side, his eyes falling on the rumpled bedclothes and the impression on the pillow left by Benny's head. Sharing a bed with Fraser was still relatively new to him; they'd only started to confront their feelings after Benny regained his memory. The first night they'd slept together, Ray had been exuberant, a little tipsy from celebrating Carver's arrest and re-imprisonment.

Too tipsy to drive, so he'd stayed at Fraser's apartment for the night and as he sobered up, talk turned to kisses that turned to caresses that led to more. Much more, and Ray's memories of that night still had the power to make him blush.

His family and their work schedules left maddeningly little time to devote to the new relationship, so when Benny's annual leave came up, Ray walked into Harding Welsh's office and told him point blank that he was going to Canada with the Mountie, or he was turning in his badge. They'd set out to rebuild Fraser's cabin before, and this time by some miracle, fate had failed to intervene and they actually doing it.

So here he was, in Benny's new bed. It was easier up here, easier to admit that he was Fraser's lover with only the woods and the birds and Dief to stand witness.

Ray looked up past the fluttering plastic tarp that served as temporary ceiling for the half-rebuilt cabin, into the wild blue sky. He wondered if the dark bird soaring there in the distance was an eagle.

A shuffle of footsteps served as warning, and Fraser stepped up onto the foundation, his body taut with purpose. Dief hopped up in hot pursuit. Ray groaned, not stirring out of his nest of blankets. Sixties or not, he knew it was going to be chilly out there. "What's up?"

"I believe I've discovered an environmental offense in the nearby woods, Ray." Fraser fairly crackled with energy. "Someone is littering the area with abandoned chemical drums. By the scent of them, I'd say it's DES--"

"Fraser." Ray's tone warned, his heart sinking. "That's very serious. So serious you're going to notify the proper local authorities, aren't you?" He slid one arm out from under the blankets and lay back on it lazily as Fraser stopped short, suddenly looking contrite.

"Ray, I...." Fraser's brow wrinkled. "I did find the dump, Ray."

"Yeah, you did, Benny." Ray sighed. "I just thought this time was for us, that's all. Don't you think somebody else could investigate that?" Like Fraser was capable of passing this up? Riiiiiiight. Ray prepared himself to give up his vacation.

"Oh. Well, you're right, of course." Fraser blinked and shook his head slightly. "The local authorities are quite qualified. Of course, yes, Ray." Unbelievably, Benny's look warmed and he relaxed. "We'll notify them promptly. Perhaps we could ride into town as soon as we've finished cutting the last timber. I'm sure they'll be quite capable of taking the matter in hand." The cloud of worry lifted from his expression.

Ray blinked, not quite sure he could believe what had happened. "Are you feeling OK?"

Fraser nodded, smiling slightly. His face stayed relaxed. Incredible. Amazing. Ray'd never seen anything that could make Fraser let go of the scent of a case once he had it, but just that easily, Fraser shrugged it off. For him.

Ray felt his heart do a sweet dip and roll, and he let his smile stretch wide as Fraser stepped close, kneeling on the edge of the mattress to lean in for a kiss.

The best way to start a morning. Ray was a little self-conscious about morning breath but Benny didn't seem to mind, gathering Ray in his arms and kissing him. Ray kissed him back with frank hunger, opening his mouth and touching Fraser's tongue with his own.

"Mmmmmm." Fraser purred low in his throat, pleased. He liked it when Ray was aggressive, so Ray turned up the heat, sliding his hand behind Fraser's head, burying his fingers in Fraser's thick short hair. Tried to pull him down onto the bed again, but Fraser had other ideas in mind, and he grabbed the covers, yanking them down to the foot of the bed, baring Ray's long lean body to the chilly morning air.

"Hey!" Ray yelped, indignant, but the look in Fraser's eyes stole any real anger from his protest-- Fraser ran his eyes hungrily over Ray, looking both wistful and possessive at once.

"We need to get moving, Ray-- it's a perfect day for work." Fraser moved away briskly and jumped back down into the yard, all business. Ray conceded the point. They didn't have forever, and the cabin needed to be roofed in tight by the time they left.

It was a perfect day, at that, birds singing in the tops of the firs, the grass brilliant green. Ray yawned and stretched, stepping into his jeans after looking around for his underwear and not finding it. Maybe it would be a nice surprise for Benny later. Ray blushed again, then shook his head and shouldered into his shirt.

They spent the morning cutting and hauling the last logs they needed, Fraser felling the trees and Ray working with a hand ax and hatchet to trim off the limbs. The circular saw he'd bought Benny so long ago had been lost in the plane crash, and even if it hadn't, they'd have had to run an extension cord for miles, or use a generator. Standing up here in the crisp clean air, with no sound of civilization audible for miles in any direction, Ray finally realized how obscene it would be to destroy that peace with a horrible racket and gasoline smoke.

Besides, the physical work felt good, exercising newfound muscles and giving him an appetite for his food-- and for Benny.

Fraser sensed the intrusion of engine noise before Ray and propped up his ax, moving to the edge of the woods. A jeep eventually chugged into view, carrying a Mountie in a brown uniform. Ray supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; they always seemed to know when you needed them.

But this time that wasn't it.

"Ray Vecchio?" the stranger called. Ray nodded, curious and half-worried. "You've got a message from the USA."

Fraser gave Ray a concerned look. Ray waved aside his worry and opened the small folded paper, taking a few steps aside to read it.

Finishing, he looked up. "Benny, why don't you tell this guy about those chemical containers you found?" he suggested. Soon Benny and his fellow Mountie were deep in conversation as Ray scanned the telegram again, then a third time.

Dief uttered an inquisitive whine and Ray shrugged at him, crumpling the white square of paper and shoving it deep into his pocket.

After several minutes Benny and his new friend finished discussing the whereabouts and possible origins and contents of the chemical drums. Hearing the silence, Ray turned to meet their curious eyes.

"Well, Benny, don't you think we'd better get back to work?" Ray nodded politely at the other Mountie. "I'll come into town tomorrow and wire a reply."

"Thank you, sir." The other Mountie touched the brim of his hat and left. Ray picked up his hatchet without a word, returning to work.

The remainder of the morning passed quickly and without much conversation as Benny cut down the towering firs, always checking for Diefenbaker's whereabouts before delivering the last few blows to make them fall. Ray took pride in stripping them quickly, only having to call for Fraser's help in turning a few particularly tall trees over.

After they cut the logs and stripped the extra branches, they hitched them to their rented pickup with a length of chain and towed them back to the cabin site a few at a time. They were using fairly slender trees so they could lift the logs into place without help using a system of support planks and pulleys. In the last week, Ray had learned more about cabin-building by hand than he'd ever thought a non-Amish American would need to know.

By the time they were done readying the last few logs, Ray was tired and hungry. He chewed his share of pemmican as they drove back toward the cabin site with the truck bed full of the larger limbs and branches, suitable for firewood. He was starting to develop a taste for it secretly, though he wasn't going to let Fraser know it, complaining comfortably around a mouthful of the peppery meat.

It was a good day. The last logs went up well after they were scraped clean of bark and trimmed smooth, leaving them to tackle the roofing in the morning. Ray sat down to enjoy a well-earned rest and wasn't surprised when Fraser retrieved his ax out of the bed of the truck. He set to work on the round chunks they'd sawed off the thick bottoms of the logs that went into the cabin, setting them up on his father's chopping block to split them for firewood.

The sun gleamed in his dark hair; they'd been doing hot work and Fraser had shed his shirt in the late afternoon as they struggled to winch the last logs into place on top of the cabin walls. It fluttered in the wind where he'd hung it from a branch, a faded blue denim flag marking their homestead.

Ray knew Fraser wouldn't stop until the work was done, and he felt a little bad about sitting down on the job, but he also knew he didn't have the skill for this particular task. Benny could line up a log and split it just as neatly as you please. But no matter what Ray did, his pieces fell down, usually just as he was starting to swing the ax to cut them. He sat back with only a flutter of guilt, watching Fraser lay in a supply of firewood against a future winter.

Benny was poetry in motion, lithe powerful body graceful and strong as he sent the ax whistling through the air. If wood-chopping was an Olympic event, Ray knew Benny could take the gold. His pale skin gleamed in the bright sunlight, sweat shining on his body, darkening the waistband of his jeans. He looked sturdy and edible wearing only hiking boots and denim jeans, muscles gliding and flowing rhythmically in his arms and back.

Ray wanted to go lick the trickles of sweat off Benny's back and shoulder blades. Instead he sat still, feeling strangely as though he were concealed, watching a wild creature in the safety of its native environment. He could see the rough patch of his own gunshot wound to Fraser's back, the scar still a little redder than the rest of Fraser's skin especially now that exercise had sent the blood surging through his body.

He wanted to kiss it, lick it, heal the pain it had caused Fraser, somehow turn back time and make it so it had never happened.

Benny half-turned, catching Ray's eye with sure instinct, and smiled at him, his expression sweetly content, and Ray found comfort there-- if Benny had gone with Victoria, they would not be here now. He couldn't see how Benny could ever have found happiness with that viper of a woman. Things were better this way. Ray shooting Benny had turned into a watershed event in both their lives.

He rose and started gathering the wood that had already fallen in a low pile behind the chopping block, carrying it inside the barn and stacking it on top of the remains of Bob Fraser's wood pile in heaping armloads. Too green to make a good fire now, but by the time he and Benny returned it would be seasoned and ready for burning.

Like him and Fraser. Seasoned by time and circumstance, till an attraction both of them had been afraid to acknowledge kindled into flame.

Benny came up behind him, and Ray heard the low thud as Fraser dropped the ax off his shoulder onto the dirt floor. He waited till Ray set down the last stick of wood then slid his arm around Ray's waist, dipping his fingertips into Ray's belt, pressing them against the bare skin he found there. "I think we've done enough for today."

"Yeah," Ray agreed, a little unsteady; Benny was nuzzling his ear and that did things to his equilibrium.

"What was in the message?" Benny asked, sounding a little subdued.

"Feds want me for an undercover job. Long-term. Infiltrate the Mafia. They took out this don in a sting, and I look just like him."

"Oh." Benny shifted uncomfortably, tensing up. "That sounds important, Ray..." he stopped, but Ray heard the unspoken words: Like something only you could do.

"I don't want to talk about it now." Ray said harshly, and turned in Fraser's arms.

"Ray...."

He shut Benny up with a kiss, pressing him up against the wall of the barn. Fraser's hands settled on his ass and Ray groaned, pushing forward, immediately hard. Fraser bucked against him and Ray pushed back, stilling his lover, nipping and biting his way down the salt-sweet curve of Benny's neck.

Fire, like he'd never felt before. Hungry for Benny, aching for every centimeter of skin he could touch, too impatient to wait till they could get to a bed. He moved back up for a kiss and stroked his tongue into Benny's mouth, not able to get deep enough, his hands sliding up Fraser's sweat-slick, bare back. "Want you," he gasped, and Fraser's hands tightened briefly, then moved to slide down inside Ray's pants, curving around his bare hips.

"Take me," Fraser's voice was a low, yearning growl in his ear. "Do it, Ray..."

Ray shoved his hips forward brutally, biting Fraser's perfect lower lip. During the limited touching and fondling they had managed to work up to during the few stolen evenings at home, and even the more leisurely exploring they'd done in the past few days here, they'd avoided this. He slid his own hands around Benny's ass, firmly padded with lush muscle, and squeezed, running his fingertips along the inseam of Benny's jeans as far down and in as he could reach.

Fraser bucked again, forward against Ray and back into his hand, squirming lasciviously. His eyes were tight shut; a ray of sunlight streamed into the barn through a crack between the rough planks, dust motes dancing in the light. It fell across his face as he let his chin tip back, moaning as Ray stroked him again and again. Impossible masculine beauty: wet red mouth and pale, flawless skin, dusted with a shadow of stubble. Hair jet black in the dim light but highlighted rich brown where the sun kissed it.

"Mine," Ray muttered, and he bit Benny's neck hard enough to make him cry out. "You're mine." He scratched at the button fastening Benny's jeans, managed to fumble it open and push down the zipper. Benny's cock sprang out, distending the slit front of his white cotton shorts, but it could not escape.

Ray pulled back the elastic, unceremoniously freeing the head, then pushed the garment down as far as he could. Bracing his hand against a dusty wooden post, he shoved jeans and shorts alike the rest of the way down to Benny's ankles using his foot, savoring Fraser's surrender. He slid his hand back around, fingers diving into the cleft, stroking, and Benny spread his legs as far as he could to allow Ray access.

Ray touched the hot, moist places that lay waiting there, moaning and sucking on Benny's neck, so hard he couldn't think far enough past the sensation of flesh under his hands to undress himself. But then Benny was pushing him away, his eyes dark and wild, catching the light for a brief, clear moment, and Benny was turning away from him, going to his knees with the bright stripe of sunlight slanting across his back and hips, just touching the shadowed cleft.

Ray moaned and scrabbled at his own button and zipper, then fell to his knees between Benny's legs, ignoring the lumpy tangle of clothes under his calves. He stroked his thumbs over the smooth roundness of Benny's hips, looking at the down of fine hair catching the light where it lay across Benny's skin.

He parted Benny's hips, seeing that part of his lover for the first time-- nothing like a woman's wet, welcoming entry. It looked small and pink and amazingly tight, not what he'd expected-- he hadn't made a point of inspecting this part of anyone before, not even with Ange.

"Benny, Benny, Benny..." Ray moaned, stroking a thumb across the shadowed pucker, frantic, not knowing what to do. He had to have something to ease the way, but they were here and undressed and for all Fraser's Boy Scout preparedness, they didn't have anything.

Fraser reached back, fumbling for Ray's hand, and Ray let him take it, blinking when Fraser spat into his palm; then he got the idea. He took back his hand and added his own saliva, then slicked it over his cock, leaning in to press the hard flesh there where he would penetrate Fraser, enter his body and claim him.

"Benny..." he sighed, and pushed forward, watching with avid disbelief as the small, small pucker gradually yielded and accepted him, letting him vanish inside-- inside Benny, where it was tight and hot and not quite slick enough, but Ray couldn't care about that, he was in and going deeper. His mind was combusting, sparkles of pleasure dancing in front of his eyes like the floating dust. Benny all around him, Benny's strong body taking him deep. Benny's low desperate moans, Benny's hands braced and his back bowed, his head falling forward between his arms.

Such power in his body, surrendered eagerly to Ray. Power and beauty and brilliant mind. Ray put his arms around Benny's waist and pulled him back, into his lap, the move pushing him even further inside.

Benny's head fell back onto his shoulder and Ray kissed his throat, sucking until he dappled the skin with a blood-mark, similar and dissimilar at once to the one on Fraser's back that he would wear forever. He looked down the taut-stretched line of Benny's long body-- solid chest with rose-pink nipples, muscles strong but not too defined. Flat belly with a shallowly indented navel that Ray suddenly longed to kiss. Half-hard cock bobbing between naked thighs.

Ray reached for it, took its length into his hand. It felt hot in spite of the cool air inside the shadow-chill barn. Velvety skin slid about, yielding under his fingers and palm, Benny's cock hardening as he fondled it. The tip peeked shyly out of its protective sheath of skin, wet and dark pink like Fraser's lips after kisses, and Ray's mouth watered suddenly, wondering how it would taste-- another thing he hadn't done. Yet. But he would. He would.

He thrust upward, pushing Fraser's body forward and up, and Fraser cried out softly in his ear, one hand moving to hold Ray's, making Ray stroke him. Fraser's body contracted around him and Ray gritted his teeth; he couldn't last like this, buried to the hilt in the tightest body he'd ever known.

Shifting his grip, Ray handled Benny confidently; this was something he knew how to do. He'd learned already how to bring Fraser off nice and hard and fast, and he had to now because he could feel his own orgasm gathering in his balls, tightening and surging and building like a charge of lightning, ready to strike.

"Ray..." Fraser breathed, his voice breaking, and he was coming, slick wet pulses into Ray's palm and over his fingers. Ray stroked him until the shudders stopped, then released Benny's softening cock and laid his semen-wet hand on Fraser's smooth belly, still thrusting. It gave him the last bit of leverage he needed, and then he was *there,* everything he was pouring out... everything he was, given up to Benny.

When Ray softened enough to slip out of Benny, he finally let his lover go. Fraser got up on unsteady legs and offered Ray a hand. Ray took it, let himself be pulled to his feet. Laughing once, he looked ruefully down at both their ankles, where both their jeans lay in a wrinkled mess.

They both bent to retrieve their pants at the same time. When they straightened, tucking and zipping and buttoning, it was as though a spell had broken. Ray sighed.

"I'm gonna drive into town and call Lt. Welsh. I gotta let him know I decline the assignment."

Fraser looked sober. "Are you sure?"

"You're more important to me, Benny. It's a long-term assignment. I'm not their man." Ray shook his head and shrugged. "Let 'em find some other bald Italian. I got family to take care of," Ray explained, and Benny looked up a little shyly at the word, as though wondering if he were included, but his brow still wrinkled. "Look, I know how you feel about duty. We've got a duty to do good stuff for people, yeah, but I can do good stuff in Chicago. Better stuff. Look at it this way. If I just got married, do you think they'd even ask me to do this?"

Fraser shook his head in the negative, and Ray wished it wasn't so dark in the barn; he needed to see the nuances in those deep, dark eyes. "We also have a duty to each other, Ray," Benny said softly. "As you reminded me this morning."

"Yeah." Ray hesitated. "Just don't think less of me for not wanting to go undercover and leave Chicago right now, OK?"

Benny shook his head solemnly. "Did you think any less of me this morning?"

"Of course not."

Fraser nodded gravely, stepping in to nuzzle a kiss against Ray's throat, bringing Ray's arm around him. "Then how could I think any less of you?" His voice turned husky. "Is that how you really feel, Ray?"

"What, Benny?"

"Like you just got married." Fraser sounded almost shy. "Like we're family."

Ray exhaled slowly. "Yeah, Benny." He nodded, arm tightening around Fraser's body. "Yeah."

Fraser just smiled: a secret expression, full of pleasure. They stayed very near to one another as they went out to wash up and start the cook stove for supper.