Author's Notes: Huge beta thanks to Kalena! Without her help, I wouldn't be able to write at all. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Story Notes: I don't own Due South or its characters. For one thing, if I did I would have *seen* all the rest of the S4 eps by now. (Sobs.)

He wanted it to be a surprise.

He'd taken a lot of trouble, and more than a little risk, just for one night. It would be worth it. After five months away, one night with Benny was worth anything. Everything.

Ray's heart jumped as a car horn blared on the street behind him, but then the lock on the Consulate door yielded. Silently, the massive door swung open. A piece of cake, when you're Armando Langoustini.

It was a perfect setup.

As far as his goons were concerned, he was on the south side of Milwaukee, celebrating a successful drug deal in the well-endowed company of Brandy LaBamba. There was no reason for anyone to have noticed him heading out the back way and grabbing a cab -- not when he'd gifted his staff a night with some of her friends.

He'd been shocked to see the rubble-strewn lot at 221 West Racine. Then, when he went to the Consulate, thinking he'd look up Fraser's address in the files -- what's a little break-in among friends? -- that wasn't there, either. He was starting to wonder if he was in the right city, or maybe the right universe.

Fortunately, Information gave him the new address. Now he stood in the front hall, trying to guess which door was to the office that held what he wanted. He smiled. It wouldn't be much longer.

Ray stopped in his tracks when he saw the light under one of the office doors. Oh, fuck. Someone was still here. He registered noise from down the hall; sounded like running water. He heard the clatter of something on tile, and . . . singing. Someone was singing a melancholy country song, in a familiar voice. It was Benny. Benny was here, and he was singing in the shower. Since when did the Consulate have a shower?

He slipped into the office; it was lit with Fraser's oil lamp. The Mountie must have been working late, probably doing all that damned paperwork the Dragon Lady hung on him. Even Fraser couldn't help out every doofus in Chicago and still get all the forms signed by five. He grinned wistfully and ran a hand over the scarred wooden desk. It was good to know that some things never changed.

The office was small, though not as bad as the first one the Mountie had been in, and the desk was cleared off. Whatever he'd been working on, it was done. Good. Fraser could take him home to his new apartment, wherever it might be, as soon as he was finished in the shower. Then he noticed the cot against the wall. There was a dog dish to one side, and a rug covered with wolf hair. A pair of boots, an alarm clock -- holy cow, Benny was actually living here. As if it wasn't worth looking for a new apartment, if he didn't have Ray to visit him there. He couldn't stop the indulgent little smile that crept onto his face.

When he heard footsteps in the hall, Ray decided he might as well get the most bang for his buck. The closet door was open, and why not? The look on Benny's face would be priceless. He slipped inside and held his breath.

Benny came in with a tinkling sound of china -- no doubt his nightly cup of tea -- and stopped in the middle of the room. Ray could hear him sniffing. That Mountie nose must have caught his cologne. Of course, Armando's taste was nothing like Ray's, so Benny wouldn't get it. His lover needed a little more clue than that. Ray was still smiling as he whispered, "Guess who's here to see you, Benny?"

Fraser froze. Ray could hear him freeze, on the other side of the closet door.

"No. Oh, please, no. . ."

That was the wrong answer. Didn't Benny want to see him? Had he been out of line? Oh God, was Benny seeing somebody else now? But it'd only been five months! "What do you mean, no?"

Ray abandoned his joke as fast as he'd started it. He lurched out of the closet, frantic now, only to see Benny stagger back. The cup and saucer shattered on the floor in a spray of tea and shards as Fraser backed into the wall. His wide, horrified eyes squeezed shut, as if he were trying to make Ray vanish by sheer force of will. "No! No, it can't be. . . Please, God, no! Tell me you're not here . . ."

A long time ago, he'd thought taking that bullet hurt. This made a gunshot wound feel like a scratch. "I can't tell you that, Benny," he said in a soft voice," but if you want me to leave, I'll go."

"No!"

Fraser's eyes shot open and he reached out as if to clutch at Ray; then he snatched his hand back and staggered through the open office door.

"Benny? Benny, what's going on?" Puzzlement overcoming his hurt, Ray followed. He was aghast when he heard retching from the bathroom. He rapped at the door, wondering if he should barge right in.

"Oh my God, Benny, you're sick! You've been sick! What is it? Are you going to be okay?" If Fraser was sick, the operation was over. Now. Fuck the FBI and the limo they came in on.

To his bewilderment, he heard a bark of laughter, then a cough, then the sound of Fraser gargling. After what seemed an eternity, the door opened. Benny was pale as a sheet, but looking steadier on his feet than before.

"No, Ray, I'm not the one you should be worried about. I'm in excellent physical condition -- although you must grant me, I have reason to be in a state of shock right now, considering the suddenness of the news." He stared past Ray, almost . . . through him. "Nobody has told me yet, Ray. But I can take it. I'm sure I can cope. . . or I will, at least in time. So." Benny shook his head and rubbed at his red eyes. "So," he took a deep breath, "how did it happen?"

Contrary to his words, Ray was appalled to see actual tears trickling down his face. He'd never thought his hard-won visit might be like this.

"How did what happen? What news? Benny, you're not making any sense, here."

Whatever the problem was, it was obviously up to Ray to calm the guy down. He reached out to caress his lover's cheek. "Just take it easy, okay?"

Fraser jerked away. "Please . . . I -- I can't handle that yet. I can't handle being so close and not being able to touch you," he choked.

"Benny. Benny. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Well, not until tomorrow morning. I just wanted this one night with you. To say hi. To say I'm sorry. How much I miss you. I left in such a rush, you know. You can touch me all you want, I promise," Ray soothed, as he pulled Benny into a warm embrace. He was so tense, Ray thought he might snap. "I just wanted to say hi."

He heard a gasp, and in his arms Fraser melted, sobbing helplessly onto his shoulder. "Oh, God, I can feel you. . . I can feel your warmth. I can even smell . . . How can it . . . How do you do that? It never feels quite as real when my father. . ."

He'd never figure this out if Benny didn't stop babbling. "Your father? What are you talking about? Look, Benny, you're scaring me. Stop crying and tell me what's wrong."

"What's wrong?" Fraser's voice rose, verging on hysterical. "You're dead, that's what's wrong, Ray! I think I'm entitled to cry just a little."

Fraser was squashing him. As good as that felt, and as much as Ray wanted to laugh out loud in sheer relief, he had to fix this. "Benny. Benny, hey. Ease up, willya? I'm not dead! I don't know where you got that idea, but I'm as alive as you are. What, you thought I was a ghost?"

"But . . . But you came from the closet. And you're here, when I know that can't be true." A sad hiccup underlined his words. "I've been worried about you; I've been worried ever since you left, but lately it's been driving me mad. When I saw you, I thought it must have been some kind of a sign, an omen, to prepare me for the worst."

"Hey, shhh. Hey. I'm alive. Alive. Not dead. Just here to see how you're doing."

He brushed aside Benny's tears with a deep, gentle kiss. It was a good idea, even beyond the fact that he'd been dying to do it for five months, since he suspected ghosts couldn't French. But just to make sure, just to be certain that there was no room left for error . . . he led Benny back into his office, lowered him onto his cot, and proceeded to do things that he was sure no ghost could ever do.