Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, no money is being made of this, this writing is for fun and entertainment only.

Story Notes: Post CotW

Ray Kowalski thinks that in this world, there are two kinds of people. There are the people who follow their mother's gentle reminder of 'If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all' and then there are the people who say whatever it is that crosses their mind. There's one of each of these people lying under the stars tonight, he thinks. And he knows he's never been one to listen to his mother, not even as the little boy he's gotten so good at forgetting.

They're lying on their backs -- both of them awake, neither of them able to speak -- when the sky lights up. Ray doesn't notice it at first, he's lost inside his own head, investigating little nooks he's never noticed before. This is where he finds the knowledge that there are two kinds of people in the world. Another little place in his head has a box brimming with questions. The questions are more interesting than the sky. He's staring directly at it, unseeing, and beside him Fraser makes a small hum of contentment. Ray turns onto his side to look at the Mountie, takes in his profile, the curve of his smile and he smiles back before he notices that there's a soft light dancing across the snow. Fraser makes that hum again and Ray returns to lying on his back and it's there. He almost laughs aloud because, it's there and it's just as beautiful as Fraser insisted. Looking up at it now, Ray feels just a little stupid for having rebelled so violently against the idea of some stupid lights being the most beautiful thing in the world. Because it is. It's nearly the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Aurora Borealis," Fraser says softly. "Beautiful."

"Yeah," Ray says back.

Two nights ago he had reached hesitantly across the gap between their sleeping bags and he'd taken Fraser's hand in his own. Neither of them had said anything, they'd just lain there, hand in hand and it had suddenly been okay for Ray to be holding Fraser's hand. It had been okay until Fraser had gently untangled his fingers and turned over to go to sleep without saying a word.

A twitch runs down Ray's fingers and he thinks he might have to physically restrain himself from reaching for the Mountie's hand again tonight. He knows Fraser and he thinks he knows the reason for Fraser's silence. Ray's the kind of person who never listened to his mother and Fraser knows the value of not saying anything when you don't have something nice to say. That's why he's been so quiet. That's what Ray thinks.

Through the misty greens and blues and yellows he can still see the stars. He hasn't seen stars since the summer spent at baseball camp, and even then they were faint. With a wry twist of his lips, Ray whispers a wish and blushes immediately following, hoping his words were soft enough to float away without being heard. This isn't him. This isn't Ray Kowalski. This is the kid who had peed his pants during a bank robbery. This person who's wishing on stars is the same kid who was beaten up in grade school, the same kid who had thrown himself blindly into love. This isn't the man he wanted to be, this is the boy he wishes he never was.

Beside him, Fraser stirs slightly. "Did you say something, Ray?"

He stares up at the sky, reds and purples creeping up onto the blue, only slightly disappointed that his wish hadn't come true. "Nah. Nothin' important."

Ray tears his eyes away from the sky long enough to check his watch. Past midnight, may twelfth. He wants to ask if the snow ever melts, but he doesn't want to sound stupid. The temperature has changed, he can sleep through the night without his mitts, but it's still too cold for him. He knows that he would have gone home months ago if it wasn't for Fraser.

"Have you ever seen anything quite like it?"

"Well, sure. Y'know, in pictures."

He doesn't have to look over to know that Fraser is smiling and half of him wants to belt the Mountie just for that smirk. There are a lot of things he wants, he realizes, none of which are things he ever gets. Not even if he wishes on a star for them.

Fraser's still smiling when he says, "It makes everything look ..."

There's such a long pause that Ray looks over at Fraser, expecting to find that he's gone back to drowning in the colours of the sky. He meets Fraser's eyes, however, and they watch each other until Fraser says, "Beautiful."

It's one word, but it's a word that causes everything in Ray's head to explode, boxes of questions ramming headlong into nooks filled with silly facts about baseball, all of it mingling with the things he thinks he knows about the world and love. And suddenly he knows that if he were to open his mouth, the sentences would come out sounding something like 'Married to a woman, like women, two kinds of people in this world of baseball are you gay if you like another man who had a killer batting average', so he just keeps his mouth shut. He looks up at the sky again, the greens shifting lazily on his left and the reds taking over the purples on his right.

Fraser's fingers gently lift his until they're holding hands.

"I was in love once," he says and Ray nods, like he's been expecting to hear something like that.

"It's ... rather a long story. Suffice to say, it ended badly. Both times. The first, I sent her to jail. The second, she used me, betrayed me, hurt Diefenbaker, dragged Ray into the mess I'd helped her create and still ... I went with her. When it came down to it, I chose her. Ray thought she was going to hurt me, he shot at her, I stepped in the way, he hit me."

Ray knows this, he knows the basic plot of this story. He's read the files and secretly he hates Victoria a little. To do all sorts of terrible to a person and to still have them love you isn't something Ray thinks he'll ever get to know.

"If I hadn't been shot, I don't know that I'd be here now," Fraser continues and Ray feels something squeeze his heart at that thought. "That scares me. It scares me to think that I ... I might not be here with you."

He sounds like he's choking on the words, like they're sticking in his throat and Ray looks over, surprised to find that there's a tear tracing a slow line down Fraser's temple. They've never talked about this before, about Victoria or what might have been. Ray can't bear the thought of never knowing Fraser, so he's never brought it up and he always thought it just hurt Fraser too much to talk about losing her. Now he doesn't know what the tears are a result of and he hates that he's so excited about the possibility that Fraser might just be that upset over him. Ray doesn't know if it's the emotion or the lights, but something makes him think of that word from earlier. Beautiful.

"I kept loving her, Ray. I loved her even after all she'd done to me. If she had ever called, I would have gone to her without hesitation. I know I would have."

He doesn't want to ask, he really doesn't, but something is making him honest and brave.

"And now?"

"Do you think ..." Fraser sighs shakily. "I couldn't leave this."

Ray turns and lies there for what feels like hours, lies there on his back, staring up at the sky, at the dancing light show of colours. He lies there and he wishes on stars and tries to put his jumbled brain back together, back into its neatly packaged little boxes of questions that never get answered. There is a warm hand enclosed in his own, his hand slightly smaller and he's suddenly elated, almost giddy with this feeling that he gets from having the smaller hand. He feels protected, warm, like someone is holding him like he always held Stella and someone is looking out for him the way he always looked out for Stella. He doesn't feel like less of man, not like he always thought he would. He just feels safe. He closes his eyes and smiles.

"... The most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Ray laughs. "Yeah, Frase, I heard you the first time. Pretty lights." He opens his eyes and looks over at Fraser and they look at each other for quite some time before Ray gets it.

"Oh," he says, still grinning. "I thought you meant ..." He shakes it off and just smiles instead. He'll go back to being the boy he thought he didn't want to be if wishing on stars makes his life like this.

"As long as we're bein' honest, Fraser, I gotta tell ya, I kinda hated Victoria. What she did, y'know?"

Fraser chuckles softly. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all?"

Ray smiles and he nods. "Yeah, she did. But sometimes honestly isn't nice. And sometimes it is."

"Like tonight," Fraser says.

"Yeah. Just like tonight."

Ray closes his eyes as Fraser's knuckles brush softly over his cheek and he doesn't care that he's missing Aurora Borealis. He doesn't care about anything but leaning into the fingers and lifting his head just slightly to expose his throat when the hand traces a line downward, over his jaw and throat and trailing across his collar bone. When Fraser shifts slightly and brings his mouth forward to meet Ray's, the lights are forgotten completely because nothing compares to this.