Author's Website:

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, but they have a lot more fun when they play at my house.

Author's Notes: In Memory of Clinton Spilman, who died April 30, 2000. I miss you, dad.

Story Notes:

Fatherless Day
By MR

It seemed to Ray that they'd walked halfway across Canada when Fraser suddenly stopped and said, "Here."

He moved up to stand beside his lover, looking at the simple gray headstone. Nothing big, nothing fancy. He figured Fraser's grandparents would've approved.

"He bought the plot after my mother was killed," Fraser was speaking softly, almost as if he'd forgotten Ray was there. "He had his name and birthdate carved on the stone beforehand, so it was there when they buried my mother."

Ray put a hand on the back of his neck, carding his fingers through Ben's hair. "You remember that?"

Fraser turned, face solemn. "Not really. I was barely five when she di...when Muldoon killed her. I have vague flashes sometimes, things I think might be memories, but I've never known for sure if they are or if I'm just remembering what someone told me."

Ray nodded. The words were carefully inscribed: ROBERT BENTON FRASERCAROLINE MARIE PINSET FRASER. Dates of birth and death underneath. Fraser's dad's name had the RCMP Crest underneath it. "When was the last time you came here? Since your dad died, I mean?"

Fraser thought a moment, then looked at him, eyes troubled. "I'm not entirely sure I've been here since my father died. Which would make..." he fell silent a moment, "almost four years."

"Well, you been busy," Ray said. His hand was resting on the back of Fraser's neck now. Not moving, just resting there, feeling the warmth.

"That's hardly an adequate reason for not visiting one's parents grave, Ray." He turned back to stare at the stone. "It's just..." he trailed off. "I suppose that, in a way, you could say this is the first Father's Day I've spent without him."

Ben had told him about his dad's ghost during the trial. At the time, Ray had thought maybe the strain was finally catching up to him, but he'd decided that if Ben said his old man's ghost had been hanging around the last four years waiting for him to catch Muldoon, then he was probably tellin' the truth. Ben didn't lie. An Lord knew it'd explain all those times Ray'd thought his partner was talking to Dief, or himself, or nothing at all.

"Actually, I must amend that statement." Fraser was staring off into the distance. "As far as my memory goes, I don't believe I ever celebrated a Father's Day that my father was actually there. Even after he died, he tended not to show up for holidays. I think he felt guilty."

"Well, he sorta had a reason to, didn' he?" Fraser looked at him. "Ben, he spent your entire life avoidin' you. I'm not sayin' he did it deliberately, just that he did. So naturally he's not gonna be around on Father's Day after he's dead if he wasn't there while he was alive, ya know?"

"True." Fraser returned to staring into the distance. "What did your family do on Father's Day, Ray?"

"Oh, the usual stuff. Mom'd make his favorite dinner. Marlon and me'd save up our allowances for a month or so an buy the old man somethin' he didn' really need."

"But he accepted it, didn't he?"

Ray smiled slightly. "Yeah. Always used to make a fuss over the stupidest things. One year, I think we were, like, eight and eleven, we pooled our money an bought him a hood ornament for his car. Ugly cheap thing...Winged Victory or somethin' like that. An he put it on his old junker, an showed all the neighbors what his boys had got him for Father's Day."

"I made Father's Day presents until I was 10, then I stopped. I'd always end up giving them to my grandfather anyway. And when I was 10, I think I realized that he wasn't going to be there, no matter what."

"Hey." Ray slipped his arms around Fraser, holding him. "He loved you, Ben. He jus' didn' know how to tell you, was all. My dad was the same way. Guys didn' tell their sons they loved them then; it wasn't the 'manly' thing to do."

"Yes, but at least your father was there, Ray." He could hear Ben sniffling. "Things might not have been ideal, but you knew he'd be coming home every night after work. And he took care of you; made sure you and your mother and brother had food and someplace to sleep. He didn't leave you with people you barely knew and not come back."

"Shh." Ray hugged him tighter. "Your grandparents loved you, Ben. You know they did." But Fraser didn't answer, and for a long time they just stood there, holding onto each other.

Finally, Fraser pulled himself together and disengaged. "You okay now?" Ray asked, and Fraser nodded, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and blowing his nose. "You know I love you, right?"

Fraser smiled that smile that Ray knew no one but him had ever seen. "Yes, Ray, and I love you as well. And I apologize for going to pieces like that."

"No apologizin'. What'd I say 'bout you apologizin' all the time, Ben?"

"That you preferred I not do it."

"Right. So don't. An anyway, I think you got a right to go to pieces occasionally. Puts you on the same level as the rest of us humans."

Fraser shook his head affectionately. "Ray, Ray, Ray. What did I do before I found you?"

"Well it musta been the right thing, Ben, cause you managed to survive long enough to find me."

"True." Fraser turned back to look at the stone. "I just wish I'd gotten to know him while he was still alive, Ray. I missed out on so many things."

:"Yeah, an so did he." Fraser looked at him, puzzled. "He never got to see you take your first step, Ben. He wasn' there when you started school, or when you graduated, or while you were growin' into a man. I think he missed out on more than you did. You had your grandfather, Quinn, Eric. But your dad...he didn' have anyone. Sorta cheated himself."

One corner of Fraser's mouth quirked. "You are an astoundingly perspective man, Stanley Raymond Kowalski. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Ray glanced at his boots, blushing. "Nah. Pro'ly didn' want it to go to my head."

"I happen to be very fond of your head," Fraser threw an arm around his shoulder. "And the body it's attached to isn't too shabby either."

"I bet you tell all the cops that, Frase."

Ben became serious again. "No I don't, Ray. I've never told anyone that before, not even...Victoria. And what I felt towards her wasn't love." He glanced at the sky. "We'd best get back to the truck. I smell snow."

Ray nodded, and put his arm around Ben as they walked away from the stone. "So. What a ya want for supper tonight?"

"I think I'll start with dessert, and eat supper later." He stopped suddenly, glancing back at the grave. "Do you think they know how happy I am right now, Ray?"

"Yeah, I think they do. An there happy to cause they're finally together. Now comeon, for we get stuck in a snowstorm or somethin'."

"Ray, we're in a cemetery. It's not like we're in the middle of an ice field."

"I don' care. I'm not interested in freezin'. Unless you want your dessert cold."

"Oh no, I'd much prefer it warm."

"Then pitter-patter my friend. Otherwise you'll have to reheat it an then it won't be any good at all."

"Have I told you I love it when you talk dirty?"

"All the time. Hey, let me tell you about the year Marlon an I decided to get dad some cologne. Like a guy who works in a meatpacking plant would need cologne, huh? Anyway..."

FIN