Author's website: http://members.aol.com/hyperfocused

Disclaimer: If I owned them, they'€™d still be on the air.

Author's Notes: Written for the 2004 Slash Advent Calendar. My first foray into DS.

Story Notes:

It was a few weeks until Christmas, but nobody in Chicago seemed to be feeling the holiday spirit. Not the impersonal sales clerks at Marshall Fields, whose 'Happy Holidays, Thank you for shopping at Fields," had been accompanied by the spraying of colognes that smelled nothing like the natural elements they were supposed to emulate; or the impatient customers waiting in line to buy "Aunt Sue or Uncle Mike" the obligatory soon to be returned gift.

Certainly the perpetrators of their last case had no goodness in their souls. A whole warehouse full of that season's most prized childhood possession, a set of dolls that Fraser found hideous in the extreme, had been tampered with, their battery cavities painted with a slow acting poison. If not for Ray's quick thinking, and Fraser's steady deductive reasoning, there could have been thousands of Christmas morning deaths.

Fraser's admiration for Ray had grown even stronger after Ray explained to him how he'd figured out Frank's nefarious plans. 'It wasn't the counterfeit dolls, Fraser. That's small potatoes for someone like Frank Todd. It was the batteries. Those are the bane of every parent's existence on Christmas morning."

"I had no idea. I never received a Christmas present that needed them."

"Damn, Frase. Every kid should have something beeping and whirring under the tree on Christmas morning."

"We didn't really have that, either. Sometimes I would make paper garlands out of old magazine pages. But it was no big deal. My grandparents didn't believe all the hoopla was necessary."

"That's just sad. Grandparents are supposed to be big on Christmas."

"Maybe it's different when you live with them."

"So what did you get?"

"Oranges. Sometimes my grandmother would give me the sweater she had knitted for me, though she was just as likely to give it on any other day."

"Are you sure you weren't Jewish?"

"Quite sure. Why?"

"'Cause those sound like Hanukkah presents. And what kind of gift is an orange?"

"There's nothing wrong with receiving practical gifts, Ray."

"But oranges? Kinda cheap, if you ask me."

"Oranges were a real treat that North in the winter. "

"Still doesn't sound like much fun."

Fraser had no argument with that.

When the paperwork was done, they were free. Fraser figured Ray would have some sort of pre-holiday plans. A party, or even a date. He wasn't expecting it when Ray asked him to come for dinner.

"I'll order something nice. Not pizza this time. And we can watch A Christmas Story on the TV. Ever seen that?"

"No, Ray. I don't think I have."

"It's a great movie. You'll love it. It has a leg lamp." Fraser had no idea what that meant. He didn't care. He was just happy to spend the time with his partner. His best friend.

"If you say so, I'm sure I will. Should I bring anything?"

"Nope, just your holiday spirit. Oh, and you can bring Dief, of course." Ray slapped him on the back, and headed out of the precinct.

They'd finished up the Thai food, Fraser finding it spicy and delicious, and were just settling onto the sofa to watch the movie. "See, the narrator is also the little boy with the glasses, Ralphie. He's looking back at his life as a kid. Just watch, it's funny."

"I'm sure I'll enjoy it, Ray."

"Oh, and there's a certain part in it that reminds me of you. See if you can figure it out."

"All right."

They watched silently for a while, and Ray was right. Fraser did enjoy it. The movie had a warm, irreverent feeling that made Fraser think of what Ray must have been like as a child. He wished they could have been friends back then.

He recognized the scene Ray had said reminded him of Fraser immediately. "Ray! I would never do that. I know better than to lick metal in winter." He was almost offended.

"I figured, but you know how you are about licking things."

Fraser laughed, and admitted he did. "I'd like to be licking you, Ray," he didn't say.

"So, you're telling me that the entire point of this film is this boy's desire for a particular air rifle?" Fraser asked, reaching a hand into the large bowl of popcorn Ray had made at the last commercial break. That his fingers brushed Ray's while he did so wasn't something to cause him complaint. He loved touching Ray, even if these small, semi-accidental events did little to assuage the depth of his affection and longing for the man. A little bit of happiness was better than nothing. Anything more would have been far too indulgent than Fraser deserved.

"Well, that's the story, but really it's about the nostalgia all adults have for their childhood Christmases."

"That's rather profound, Ray."

Ray grinned, tapping himself on the forehead. "What, you think I just use this to grow hair?"

"No, Ray. I think you have a fine mind, and I see evidence that you use it every day. You were the one who figured out what Frank Todd was doing with those dolls."

"Thanks, Fraser." They sat quietly a while, watching the movie. Fraser half watched the film, but more of his attention was on Ray, enjoying Ray's laughter. It had been a rough month, and Fraser was glad to see Ray feeling freer.

"Did you ever have anything like that, Frase?" Ray's voice was quiet, but it shook him out of his reverie.

"A bb gun? No, there wasn't really a need for toy weapons."

"Every kid needs toys, Fraser. It's like a law." Fraser looked at him, and Ray looked back with his inimitable ' Just dare to disagree with me' expression. "No, I mean something you wanted so badly when you were a kid that it was all you thought about."

"No, Ray, not when I was a child." He'd wanted his mother to be alive again, and for his father -- but there was no point in wishing for the impossible. There still wasn't. Toys would have been nice, he guessed, but he had done all right amusing himself. He hadn't had much of a choice.

Sometimes Fraser forgot how well Ray understood him, even when he hadn't said anything. "But there is now?"

Fraser didn't know what it was that was making him so loose lipped. Perhaps the mulled wine was stronger than he'd thought. Or perhaps it was just - time. Before he could stop himself, it slipped out. "Yes, Ray."

"So what is it? What is it you dream about? What turns Benton Fraser's crank?" Ray turned towards him, so close Fraser could smell him, wintery bright and warmly spicy. Before he could stop himself, the damning words slipped out.

"You do."

"Well, that's just wrong."

Fraser knew he shouldn't have said anything. Now he'd ruined both the friendship, and any chances of a pleasant holiday for both of them. "I'm sorry, Ray." He got up and began to gather his belongings; sure Ray wouldn't want him there now that he knew Fraser's true nature.

"Where are you going? You don't have to leave."

"I've made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to tell you..."

"Fraser, I meant it was wrong that you didn't get what you wanted. You deserve to be happy." Ray's next words were quieter. "I deserve to be happy, too."

"Yes, Ray, you do. What would make you happy?" Fraser couldn' suppress the bright spark of hope he felt when Ray clicked the remote off, and patted the seat next to him. Maybe they were on the same wavelength after all.

Fraser never did find out whether the boy got his air rifle, though he suspected the film would have a happy ending. "We'll have eleven more chances to watch this," Ray assured him, as he moved to kiss Fraser.

If smelling Ray had been nice, kissing him was wonderful. He tasted amazing. Fraser didn't want to stop, the need to breathe be damned. From the feel of Ray, hard and hot against him even through his jeans, Fraser could tell he didn't either. Finally, though, Ray got up and took him by the hand, leading him into the bedroom.

"Come on. Our knees will thank us for this later," he said. Fraser watched as Ray began stripping off his clothes as they headed down the hall. "What about you, Fraser? Aren't you going to show me what you got?"

"It would only be fair, Ray." He tried to work a little faster. But when he saw Ray standing fully nude in front of him, he couldn't stop himself from staring. Ray was beautiful; a line drawing done with speed and passion, capturing the essence of movement and grace.

Fraser could tell Ray was at least a little nervous as well, and that reassured him. "Are you all right?" Ray asked him, flushing a little.

"I'm more than all right, Ray." Fraser swiftly finished undressing, and pulled Ray down on top of him onto the bed. It felt so good to be this close to Ray after all this time. Pressing close, their erections brushing together. Fraser could have finished this way without a complaint, but Ray moved lower before he got that close

"That's for sure. You're perfect. I want to suck you. I can, can't I?" Ray didn't really wait for an answer.

This was lucky, because Fraser gasped, then nodded, but couldn't say anything at all. Embarrassingly, the words that popped into his mind when Ray's talented, talkative mouth finally closed around him? "You'll put your eye out, kid!"

End A Christmas Story by HYPERFocused: hyperfocused@aol.com

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