Author's Notes: Thanks to Bast and XFreak.

Off By Grey

"Fuck, I'm bleeding. Police brutality!"

Aaron Netter lay face down on the pavement, his hands cuffed behind his back as Ray barked, "I'll show you brutality if you move another muscle, you little dickhead."

Standing over him, Ray shook all over, the adrenaline still pumping through his system. He kept the gun steady with both hands, but just barely. It took all his concentrated energy not to pull the trigger and blow the little fuck's puny brains out. Blood dripped from the knife gash along Ray's right inner forearm, but he felt no pain, not a sting, not even a little bit. He also had a small cut down his right cheek, a black eye, and a shredded grey T-shirt, torn from the fight he'd just won against the loser lying on the ground between his legs.

Netter's voice came out more like a whine than a threat. "You're crazy, man. I'm going to file charges."

"Then I'll file a few of my own and we're even." Ray reached down, caught the collar of Netter's leather jacket, and jerked the guy to his feet. Netter swayed for a second, but stayed up, his nose swollen and his mouth bloody from the solid punch that took him down.

"Ray, perhaps we should take Mr. Netter to the ER to ascertain the full extent of his injuries."

"He doesn't need a doctor. He needs a good kick in the head, just like the poor kid he nearly kicked to death Saturday night just for the fun of it."

"I didn't kick nobody. You've got no right to beat a guy just because you think he's guilty."

"Shut up, you little freak show. I wasn't talking to you." Fraser stood a bit straighter, his hands behind his back, and wore that serious expression that told Ray he was going to be stubborn about something that would piss Ray off. Ray hated that look. "What?"

"Ray, it's just a precaution."

"He's not even hurt that bad."

"I'm bleeding, you idiot."

"So the fuck what? So am I. You see me complaining?"

Fraser cleared his throat and pulled out a bright white handkerchief. Ray couldn't believe people still carried those things, not since they invented Kleenex anyway. Fraser stepped closer and with a flurry and a whirl of the material made a quick-as-you-please, makeshift bandage. Instead of helping Netter, he tied it around Ray's wound, tight enough to stop the bleeding, but not tight enough to be a tourniquet and cut off circulation. "He'll likely need stitches, Ray, as will you."

Ray shook his head and thought about his own injury for the first time. "It's not that deep."

"It's deep enough. You want me to drive or shall you?"

"Fuck."

"Ray -"

Holding up a hand, Ray cut off the protest. "Okay, okay, we'll go, but I'll drive." Ray pushed Netter roughly toward his car, a blue Lumina, standard issue from the department. He missed having a decent car to drive, but didn't really have time to track one down and no real money to get what he wanted anyway. Still shaking and breathing a little hard from chasing Netter down the alley, he shoved him into the back seat. "Next stop the ER. It'll be the morgue if you do anything stupid to piss me off again, got it?"

Netter snorted and shook his head, blood still dripping down his face. "You need to switch to decaf, man, or take some serious medication. You're gonna bust a gut and hurt somebody or somethin'."

"I'll bust you in the mouth again if you don't shut up."

"Ray -"

"Fraser, what's with you? Why are you taking his side?"

"I'm not taking his side, Ray. I didn't know there were sides."

Ray started the engine, still seeing red and aggravated as hell. "We've been through this. There are always sides, my side, his side, good guys, bad guys. I'm the good guy."

"Yeah, right. That's why you're acting like a maniac."

The taunting words from the back seat caused Ray to whip around and threaten, "Say anything else and I'll tell the wolf to chow down on wiseass."

Netter glanced over at Diefenbaker and gulped in fear. "Wolf?"

"Yeah, wolf, and he missed lunch, so shut up and mind your own business."

Turning back around, Ray gunned the engine and sped off. Ben held onto the dash and the door at the same time as he shook his head. "Ray, you just broke three state statutes."

"Better than breaking his face."

Fraser didn't say anything right then, but Ray knew what he was thinking, that Ray needed to calm down, to get a grip. He didn't have to say it out loud, because Ray knew it was true. He just couldn't seem to do it, not lately, not for a while now. It's like everything pissed him off--Stella and Orsini, Fraser's know-it-all attitude and doing stupid shit that put himself in danger, criminals taking over the streets right and left and courts not giving a shit. Even the cubs were having an off season. Pick something and Ray got pissed off. It was like his only state of being lately. God, he got tired of being so pissed off all the time.

After a few minutes of nothing but dodging bad drivers, Fraser tried again. "Ray, I'd appreciate it if you'd slow down to the posted limit."

"Nobody drives the limit, Fraser. I told you that, but, no, you never listen, never pay attention to anything I say. What the fuck does Ray know?"

"I do listen, Ray. I just don't always agree with your assessment of the situation."

Ray stopped at a red light and slammed the heel of his hand against the wheel three times in total frustration. "Is that why you ran after this jerk after I told you to not to?"

"Well, I thought Diefenbaker and I would have a better chance of cutting him off if I went around through the back. Obviously -"

"You were wrong."

Fraser tugged at his ear, his voice no longer quite as challenging or confident. "Well, yes, that's true. However, at the time -"

"You didn't listen, Fraser. When we're out here, you don't fucking listen. You just run around like you've got a gun and you're bulletproof and everything's all hunky dory, no head cases around to whack you. You make me nuts, you know that?"

Netter snorted from the back seat, but didn't say anything as he kept an eye on Dief. Fraser, on the other hand, did. "I'm sorry if I irritate you, Ray. I assure you it's not my intention."

Ray's voice got tight. The words came out rough and harsh because he meant every word and felt sick to his stomach about having to actually say it. "Then next time do what I tell you to do. Can you just fucking do that? I mean, just once, I'd like to say, 'Fraser, stay put,' and have you actually do it, act like I knew what the fuck I was doing. But, no, you've got to run around like you know everything, which, for your information, you don't. You might know all about caribou and the tundra and shit, but you don't know diddly squat about the streets of Chicago."

"Ray -"

"No, I'm not finished. He had a knife, Fraser. You could've been killed. He was just an inch away from slicing your throat back there."

"But I wasn't hurt. You were."

"But that's different."

"How is that different?"

"It just is."

"That makes no sense, Ray."

"Shut up, Fraser. I'm pissed. I don't have to make sense when I'm pissed."

"Who says so?"

"I do."

"That's not very logical, Ray." Fraser motioned toward the signal. "The light's green."

Ray took off, driving the last few blocks to the hospital, his gut tight and his head about to explode into itty bitty pieces. "Who the fuck says everything has to be all neat and logical? Nobody said that. Nobody said, 'Hey, Ray, life's going to be all logical and everybody's going to act like they've got good sense.' Nobody said that. Nobody said that because it's not true."

"I'm just saying that it's not logical for you to think it's okay for you to get hurt and not me. We're partners in this, are we not? What's appropriate for you should be appropriate for me."

"Did somebody knock you in the head when you were a kid or something?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no."

"Then you should check. Call that Buck Forbisher guy or somebody up in Freezerland and find out, because I'd bet money that somewhere along the line, you got clobbered and they didn't tell ya. Come to think of it, that would explain a hell of a lot of things."

Persistent and stubborn as always, Fraser ignored the insult. "You still didn't answer the question."

"What question? I didn't hear any question, just a lot of gobbledy goop and lame ass excuses."

"I want to know why you think it's fair that you take risks, but that I shouldn't. If we're true partners, then the risk should be shared."

"It's fair because it just is."

"That's not an answer, Ray. That's not even a sensible sentence."

Pulling into the hospital lot, Ray found a parking space near the ER entrance. As he shut off the engine, he turned in his seat toward Fraser. "Listen, from now on, you do what I say or you can file papers 'til doomsday with Turnbull. I don't want you on the street if you can't follow my lead."

Fraser's words stalled and then he paled. "Are you saying you don't want me as a partner anymore?"

Ray pinched the bridge of his nose and prayed for more patience. "No, I'm not saying that. I just mean you've got to make some changes. If the guy has a gun or a knife and I think you should hang back, then you do it. No more second guessing. I'm not going to be responsible if you get whacked because you don't fucking listen."

"Nobody's asking you to be responsible."

"Like hell they're not."

Before Fraser could respond, Netter complained from the back seat. "Hey, hey, can you guys stop arguing long enough for me to get my mouth stitched up or what?"

Ray turned and growled, a fierce sound that gave Dief a good run for his money. Netter jerked back, his eyes wide at the unexpected behavior. Ray got out of the car, came around, and pulled Netter out of the back seat. "You want stitches, then we'll get stitches. Won't keep your ass out of jail. You're going down and I'm the one sending you away, asshole."

Netter didn't argue, just went along inside, half dragged, half walking. Fraser got out of the car slowly and whispered something to Dief about staying outside. Then he followed Ray and Netter into the hospital, his face grim, but thoughtful.

+++++++++++

"Well, gentlemen, I see we have another situation on our hands."

Ray shook his head, his arms crossed, the fresh bandage covering most of his right forearm. "No situation, sir. The guy resisted arrest. I subdued him and brought him in."

"By way of the emergency room?"

"That happens sometimes, sir. Did I mention he resisted arrest?"

Fraser chimed in. "He did resist, sir. He ran when confronted and then attacked Ray even though Ray clearly identified himself as a police officer. Mr. Netter refused to cooperate."

Welsh rubbed his face with both hands and leaned back at his desk. "I'm not questioning the fact that Netter resisted, Constable. All I have to do is look at Vecchio and see that."

"What are you saying, sir?" Ray stood straighter, taking offense at the perceived slight to his abilities to take down a scumbag. "You saying I took the worst of it? The guy's got a busted nose and eight stitches in his lip. It ain't pretty. He won't be getting any quick dates anytime soon, well, unless you count the jailbirds who are into that sort of thing."

"I'm saying one of my detectives looks pretty beat up himself, not for the first time in the last few weeks, and I'm thinking how this might have been avoided if I'd sent someone else."

"You saying I'm not doing my job, that I'm messing up?"

Welsh frowned. "Did you hear me say that? Did you hear those words come out of my mouth?"

Uneasy, Ray shook his head, but still kept an edge to his voice. "Look, the guy's locked up. We're charging him with not only the assault from Saturday night, but resisting, assaulting a police officer, and attempted murder of a Canadian. That alone ought to be worth double charges or something."

Welsh's attention got even more intense. "Attempted murder?"

"He tried to kill Fraser."

Before Welsh could ask, Fraser nodded in support of Ray's statement. "He did, sir. I can safely say if it weren't for Ray's quick reflexes and diligent dedication to duty, he might well have succeeded."

Welsh sat forward, suddenly a lot more aggravated. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?"

"I thought I did." Ray rubbed his forehead, his headache getting worse. "Anyway, the brutality charge is bogus. He should've just given up and not pulled all that other stuff. He's lucky I didn't shoot his ass."

Welsh nodded and then picked up a folder as if getting back to work. "Okay, that's all I needed to know. I'll run interference between you and IA, but they'll still probably want a written statement."

"They can have all the damn statements they want, Lieutenant. I did what I had to."

"You don't have to convince me, Detective. Now, are you okay to work the rest of the day or do you need to go home?"

Ray rubbed the bandage and shrugged like it wasn't important. "I'm good, sir. It's just a scratch."

Fraser interrupted. "Twenty stitches is hardly 'just a scratch', Ray."

"Yeah, well, I've had worse. It's not a big deal."

Welsh handed him a file. "Then be so good as to earn some more of your generous salary. I'd like an update on the Carson case as soon as you can coordinate with Huey."

Ray saluted and headed to the door. "Sure thing."

Just as Ray stepped outside the office, Welsh asked, "Constable, could you spare a moment alone, please?"

"Certainly, sir."

Fraser met Ray's questioning gaze briefly and then shut the door. Puzzled about what Welsh would want to talk to Fraser about, Ray went to his desk and just stood there. He wished he had a bug in the office so he could hear what they were saying. Not to be paranoid or anything, but he had a sneaking suspicion that they might be talking about him. He dropped the file folder on his desk and sat down in the chair. He tried spying through the window, but he couldn't read lips and even if he could, he didn't have a clear shot of their mouths anyway.

Fuck it. He stood up and headed to the break room. He needed coffee, the stronger, the better, and some chocolate, at least two Snickers bars worth. That might take the edge off the pounding ache that stretched from the top of his head, down the back of his neck, and across his shoulders.

Alone in the break room, he grabbed a Styrofoam cup and poured himself some of the greenish brown sludge that passed for coffee in a cop shop. As he put the quarters in the snack machine, Frannie came up beside him. "God, Ray, what happened to you? You meet your ex in a back alley or something?"

Ray didn't care what Frannie thought about him, but he hated when she disrespected Stella. They might be divorced, but she still belonged to him inside his head. "Lay off Stella. She never did anything to you."

Frannie ignored his comment and asked again, "Seriously, Ray, what happened? Your eye's all black and blue. Somebody said you got cut, too, and needed stitches." She touched his white bandage. "You okay?"

"Somebody's got a big mouth."

"It's a police station. What do you expect?"

"How about a little privacy and people minding their own damn business? Maybe if you worked a little harder, you wouldn't have time for gossip."

Unfazed, Frannie shook her head as she dismissed his opinion. "There's always time for gossip, Ray, especially with the stuff you pull."

Ray got his two candy bars from the machine and moved to one of the tables. Frannie sat down across from him. He doctored his coffee with sugar and then finally asked, "What's that supposed to mean, the stuff I pull? How is the stuff I pull any different from anybody else's stuff?"

"You work with Fraser. It's always going to be different. My god, Ray, you're always coming in beat up lately. It's like you're going around picking fights and asking for trouble."

"I am not."

"So, I suppose that little blow up with Dewey this morning was just guys having a friendly discussion?"

"Fuck Dewey."

"No thanks. He stinks."

Ray sipped his coffee and made a face at the bitterness. He opened one of his candy bars and took a bite to cover up the flavor. He still chewed as he spoke. "Bacon bits and fish. Wonder if he ever takes a bath."

"Doesn't smell like it, but I doubt that's why you're always in his face lately."

"I've been in his face since day one, Frannie. That's nothing new. He's an idiot."

"You just don't like him because he said that stuff about Stella."

Ray finished his first candy bar, swallowed it, and shrugged off her comment, all casual-like. Still, he felt anything but cool when it came to Dewey and his smartass comments about his ex-wife and her sex life, not to mention his sorry ass digs about Fraser. Son of a bitch had a nasty mouth and somebody needed to pop him a few times to get him to shut up about things he knew fuck all about. "So? What's your point?"

Frannie hesitated, like she really cared about what was coming out of her mouth next. "Look, I'm just worried about you, that's all. You've been worse than usual lately. People are talking."

"Worse? Worse how?"

"Your temper, your mouth, the way you treat Fraser."

Ray skipped to the part that mattered. "What's wrong with the way I treat Fraser?"

"I'd pop you if you treated me like that."

He seriously had no clue what she was talking about. "Like what?"

"You cut him off, you call him names, and worst of all, you act like he's just a pain to have around. I should be so lucky as to have him around."

Ray snorted in amusement. "Like everybody in the civilized world doesn't know that already."

"I'm just saying -"

"Look, if Fraser has a problem with what I say or do, then he can take it up with me. Until then, it's between us."

"But it's affecting everybody. Look, Ray, you're scaring the natives. Fraser's the only one who even risks being around you anymore. You keep this up, you won't even have that."

Ray swallowed hard, not wanting to believe what she was saying. Sure, he'd been tense lately, but no worse than usual, not much anyway. "You're exaggerating. If that were the case, you wouldn't even bother to be here."

"I'm only telling you this because you're supposed to be my brother and for some strange reason I like you. Don't ask me why." She lowered her voice and leaned in closer as another officer came in the room behind them. "You need to stop being a big baby and do something before you end up spoiling it for everybody, including yourself."

"Spoiling what for everybody?"

"Having Fraser around."

Frannie got up and grabbed her soda. "By the way, Ma said you haven't called in a couple of weeks. She's worried."

"I'll call when I get time."

"If I tell her you'll call, you'd better."

"Stop nagging. I'll call. I promise. Jeez, you're worse than a real sister."

As she walked to the door, Fraser came in. She gave him the dreamy-eyed special for the day. "Hey, Fraser."

"Good afternoon, Francesca."

When she left, Fraser sat down across from him at the table. "Are you all right, Ray?"

"I'm fine. Quit asking."

"Would you like me to take your prescriptions to the pharmacy? You can pick them up later on your way home."

Ray scratched his face and sipped his coffee before he answered. His cut itched under the band-aid. "No, thanks. I don't need any pills."

"Perhaps not for the pain, but you really should take the antibiotics. The knife Mr. Netter used was anything but hygienic."

"It'll be fine. Speaking of the knife, I'm surprised you didn't dive in when he pitched it in the lake."

Not so easily distracted from the topic at hand, Fraser changed tactics. "Ray, have you ever seen what happens to a wound once gangrene sets in? Being an amputee would be a very difficult adjustment, especially for someone as active as yourself. Mind you, it wouldn't be impossible, and I would, of course, offer my assistance during your convalescence. However, the whole thing might be easily avoided by simply following the doctor's sensible recommendations."

Taking a long, tired breath, Ray closed his eyes and then rubbed his right temple with his knuckles. "You make my head hurt, you know that?"

"I'm sorry, Ray. I just care about your welfare."

"I'll get the antibiotics filled on the way home. Happy?"

"Extraordinarily so, yes."

"Right." Ray finished off his coffee, but didn't get up. "Fraser?"

"Yes, Ray?"

"Do you think I treat you bad?"

"In what context?"

"You know when I call you a freak or ask if you're unhinged, I don't really mean it, right?"

"But you do mean it."

"Well, I mean it at the time, but I don't mean anything by it. What I'm trying to say is -"

"I know what you're trying to say, Ray, and I understand why you do it. You get frustrated and that's your way of, how do you put it, letting off steam?"

Ray frowned, not liking what he was hearing. Sure, Fraser pissed him off more than anybody in the known universe, but he never wanted to really use him for a punching bag. "How's that make you feel?"

"Feel?"

"Yeah, you know, like does it hurt your feelings?"

"If you said it with malice, it would, as you say, hurt my feelings, but since I know you don't have that intention, no, it doesn't really bother me that much."

"That much? How much does it bother you?"

Fraser avoided his gaze and swiped his right thumb over his eyebrow, a tell-tale sign of discomfort. "I must confess, I'm still not quite used to being the target of your anger and frustration, Ray, but I prefer it to some other behaviors that are more disconcerting."

"Like what?"

Fraser glanced around when Officer Velma Gaines walked in, the biggest gossip on the third floor next to Frannie. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion at a later time, Ray. This might not be the appropriate venue."

Intrigued and wanting to know more about what behaviors Fraser found disconcerting, Ray nodded. "Okay. What about tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah. We could get a pizza and watch some TV or something."

Fraser didn't answer right away and Ray thought he might say no. After the day they'd had, he didn't much blame him. Thinking back over the whole thing, he had come down pretty hard on the guy, even if he did deserve it. Finally, Fraser nodded. "Tonight would be fine, Ray."

"Good. We'll just eat and chill. It's been a while since we just sat around and shot the shit."

"Shot the what, Ray?"

"You know, shoot the breeze, chew the fat, yak a while about something besides work and scumbags of the earth."

"Ah. Understood. We'll chew the fat, as it were, when we have the pizza, correct?"

Ray groaned as he got up, shaking his head and tossing the leftover nasty coffee into the trash. "Yeah, that's it, Fraser, but that's only if we get your favorite toppings of lichen and blubber. Meanwhile, I think we better get back to work before Welsh decides to chew my ass instead of the fat."

Fraser smiled for the first time throughout the conversation. "That might prove to be somewhat difficult, Ray."

"Why's that?"

"Well, it's been my observation that your posterior has little fat to chew."

Ray stopped dead in his tracks. "Since when have you been observing my posterior?"

Fraser turned as red as his uniform. "I just meant -"

"Never mind. It was joke. I know what you meant. Enough about my skinny ass. Let's track down Huey and see if he's got any leads on this Carson case. The guy might have an airtight alibi, but I think we might be able to punch a few holes in it if we can work the right angle on the girlfriend."

Still flushed and a little flustered, Fraser managed to keep his voice steady. "What right angle would that be, Ray?"

"I think Carson has another girl on the side."

"So, you're proposing to make Ms. Snyder, who gave the alibi, jealous?"

"Something like that, yeah."

As they walked back to the desk, Ray saw Dewey talking to Huey. His ears rang just a little louder, the echo of an earlier argument with Dewey replaying through his mind. Ray kept himself in check as he walked up to Huey. "You got anything else on the Carson case?"

Dewey smirked. "Jesus, what happened to you, Vecchio? You get smacked down by some half-baked pussy or what?"

Ray had no clear memory of what happened next, only brief flashes of his hands around Dewey's throat as Fraser pulled him off and dragged him down the hall into interrogation one. Ray's head bounced against the plaster as Fraser suddenly released him. Then he swung around and threw a punch at the wall. It didn't even hurt right away, but his knuckles let him know he'd hit a solid stud a split second later. After a few moments of quiet, the world settled down and the roaring stopped. He rubbed and babied his hand. "Ow."

"Ray, what on earth is wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me."

"You just attacked Detective Dewey."

"Did you hear what that asshole said?"

"That doesn't -"

"Doesn't what? Matter? He can say whatever the fuck he wants and I'm supposed to just stand there and take it?" Ray paced the small room, his heart racing again, his hand hurting like a son of a bitch. "I have to do that on the streets, Fraser, just take it. I don't have to fucking take it here, not from a guy I'm supposed to work with, not from some stinky son of a bitch like Dewey. He was out of line and he fucking knows it."

When Fraser didn't say anything, Ray stopped walking back and forth. He crossed his arms around his chest to hold himself together. He had to admit, it didn't feel quite as good as he thought it would to go after Dewey. He cracked his neck sideways to release the intense pressure, the words tight in his throat. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Fraser. I keep fucking up. It's like I'm mad at the world or something."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Mad at the world."

Ray closed his eyes, suddenly very drained. "Not the whole world, no, just my part of it, I guess."

Before Fraser could give him some half-assed lecture about displaced aggression, Welsh stepped into the room. Instead of being fired up and yelling his head off, something that Ray truly expected, he got Welsh using his handler's voice, the one he saved for the head cases and whack jobs before they got shipped off to the funny farm. "What's going on with you, Kowalski? I need an answer and I need it now."

"Nothing, sir."

"Not good enough." Welsh stepped closer, but didn't touch him. "I take partial responsibility. I should've seen this coming."

"Dewey's a prick, sir. I know I shouldn't have gone after him, but it's been a really bad day."

"Bad day or not, you don't go around strangling you colleagues. If we all did that, well, there wouldn't be many cops left. But you and I both know that this isn't about Dewey."

"We do?"

"Yes, Detective, we do. You've been spitting nails and acting like you've got a bone to pick with everybody lately." Ray didn't argue, just waited for the hammer to fall. "Take a couple of days off, personal time."

"Sir -"

Welsh shook his head and cut off any protest. "You need to figure out if you want this job or not. If you do, you either shape up and see somebody, or I'll have to turn this in. You'll be suspended and mandated and it'll be in your jacket. You'd have a permanent red flag. You want that?"

Throat dry, Ray couldn't believe his ears. "See somebody? You mean like a shrink or something?"

"There are worse things."

"A root canal or a bullet to the head, maybe."

Welsh put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "You've got a problem. Fix it on your own with a shrink of your choosing or it's through the department. Your choice."

"Not much choice."

"You tied my hands by choking Dewey in front of the whole squad room. I had to promise him a paid holiday to get him to hold back on assault charges. You could lose your badge for that."

"Asshole."

"Who's giving you a break, one you'd better take seriously and appreciate."

"Appreciate being forced to see a head jockey? Not likely."

Welsh sighed and released him. "Go home, Ray. Call me in a couple of days and give me the name of your doctor. If not, I'll take it from there."

"You'd do that, sir? You'd really put this in my jacket?"

"I don't like it any better than you do, but I do my job. You know the rules, no choking fellow cops."

Welsh turned away and looked straight at Fraser. "Take him home, Constable. Talk some sense into him before he ends up ruining his career completely."

"Understood, sir."

With Welsh gone, Ray just stood there, still not believing how fast his life hit the dumpster. When Fraser moved closer, Ray held up a hand. "Don't. Just give me a minute."

Fraser stood very still, not moving a muscle, but not taking his eyes off him, either. After a full minute, Ray swallowed down his hurt pride and took a deep breath. "Thanks."

"For what, Ray?"

"Keeping me from committing homicide."

"You wouldn't have really killed him, Ray."

"No? You don't think so?"

"Bruised him, perhaps, but I don't think you have it in you to murder a man in cold blood."

Ray squared his shoulders and prayed Fraser knew him better than he knew himself because from where he was standing, Dewey could've easily been a dead man, no problem.

+++++++++++

Ray stretched a few times, his body all achy. He'd have bruises on both arms and across his chest by morning. "That was one hell of a bear hug. They teach you how to manhandle like that up in Mountie school?"

"Learning to restrain someone safely is standard procedure, Ray."

"Standard procedure, right." Sitting on his sofa, Ray dropped his head back, suddenly drained and exhausted. What a shitty, rotten day. He needed a do-over. God, what a mess. "I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not."

"I fucked up. Sure, I hate Dewey's guts, but that's no reason to throw my career in the crapper like that."

"So why did you?"

"He pissed me off."

"So it would seem."

Ray lifted his head and stared at his partner, suspicious. He'd heard that tone before and it always meant more than what was said. "What's that mean?"

Fraser sat in the chair beside the sofa, his hat on the table, his tunic neatly folded and draped over the back of the seat. "What's what mean?"

"What you just said. It sounded like you meant something other than I was just pissed at Dewey. So, what'd you really mean?"

"It's pretty self-evident that you were angry with Detective Dewey. While I will agree that he's an irritating individual and rather unpleasant, that doesn't really account for your extreme reaction to his noxious comment."

"It doesn't?"

"No, Ray, it doesn't. In fact, your behavior the last few weeks has been increasingly intense and aggressive, something I think has little to do with your aversion to Detective Dewey."

"What do you think it has to do with then?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you'd tell me."

Ray took a deep breath and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. No way could he say what he was really thinking, so he dodged in another direction. "If I knew, I'd tell you. Problem is, I don't have a clue."

"But you do realize that your reactions lately have been rather, what's the word, off?"

"Off?"

"Yes, or at least off for you."

Sitting back again, Ray thought about that for a second or two and then reluctantly nodded in agreement. "Off, huh? Yeah, I do feel off, like I'm off balance or something, like I can't get a rhythm and settle down to a steady run. Everything's cranked up too high and I feel all twitchy in my own skin."

"Do you have any idea why that is?"

Ray couldn't meet that steady gaze, so he just shook his head. "Not really, no."

Fraser hesitated and cleared his throat before he tried his hand at armchair psychology. "It started right after the Orsini case. Do you think there might be a connection?"

Ray wanted to say bingo, that's it, mystery solved, but he couldn't. He knew deep down there was a lot more to it than that. "Sure, that might be part of it, but it's not all. I know I'm still hung up on Stella more than I should be. I get that. But it's been almost two years now since we split up. If I was going to lose it, I would've lost it when she first left."

"Not necessarily."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's possible that now that you've seen her with another man, even temporarily, you fully realize the futile nature of your pursuit."

"I might be damaged, but I'm not stupid. I know she's done with me, finished, no more time for Ray time. I knew that two years ago when I got the divorce papers. I'm telling you, it's not that, at least not completely."

Fraser shook his head, his face solemn. "I want to help you, Ray, but I'm at a loss to know what to do."

"Why do anything? It's not your problem."

"That's where you're wrong. It's very much my problem."

"I don't see how. If I get my ass kicked off the job, that's nothing to you."

Fraser stiffened and stood up, walked several paces, and then turned. "How can you say that? You're my partner."

"You're Vecchio's partner, not mine. They get rid of me, they'll bring in some other bozo to play the part until Vecchio comes back. No skin off your nose."

Shaking his head in dismay, Fraser sat down again. "This is more serious than I thought."

"What, me being a head case?"

"No, you being an idiot."

Stunned, Ray jerked his head back like he'd been smacked. "Who you calling an idiot?"

"You, if you think that you're merely a substitute for Ray Vecchio. I mean, technically, you are taking his place, but that's not how I see you on a day-to-day basis."

"No? How do you see me?"

"As my partner, Ray, and my friend."

Throat dry, Ray had trouble taking it in. "Your friend?"

"Yes. I find it difficult to comprehend why you still find that difficult to believe. What is it about my behavior that would lead you to think this way?"

"It's not you."

"It must be. Otherwise, you wouldn't feel the need to devalue our relationship in such a cavalier manner."

"I don't do that."

"I beg to differ."

"Well, you would, but you'd be wrong. I do value our relationship, maybe too much."

"Too much? I don't understand what that means."

"Me, neither."

Fraser suddenly got a look that scared Ray down to his toes, a look like Dief got when he zeroed in on a piece of leftover pizza. "I think you do, Ray. I think you know exactly what it means."

"You calling me a liar?"

"Ray, I need you to tell me what it means when you say you value our relationship too much."

"I can't."

"You mean you won't."

"Leave it alone, Fraser, I'm warning you."

"Or what? Are you going to 'pop me'? Is that the expression? Or perhaps you'd prefer to 'kick me in the head'? Would that allow your anger to cover up what you're really feeling?"

"What is it you think I'm really feeling?"

"You tell me."

Ray shook his head hard several times, but nothing got any clearer, never would at this rate. "We're getting nowhere, just going in circles."

"On the contrary, Ray, I think you're just avoiding the issue."

"Issue? What issue?"

"Your real feelings about our relationship."

Standing up, Ray shook his head again. "I'm not talking about this." Before Fraser said another word, Ray held up a hand. "I have to go to the can."

"Go, but I'll still be here. I'm not leaving until we resolve this."

"This? There is no this. I'm tired of talking about bullshit."

Fraser stood up and stepped into his space, his voice hard and challenging. "Too bad, Ray. We have to talk about this whether it makes you uncomfortable or not."

"What are you doing, Fraser, playing tough guy, trying to push me into saying something you don't want to hear?"

"Who says I don't want to hear it?"

Ray turned away, his heart pounding in his chest. "Trust me on this. This is a can of worms you don't want to open up. You do and there's no telling what's going to happen."

"Let me be the judge of that, Ray. Trust me enough to make that decision for myself."

His back still to Fraser, Ray wet his lower lip and swallowed twice before he finally said the words out loud. "I think I'm fucked, Fraser."

"I don't understand."

Ray forced himself to turn around, to look Fraser in the eye while he explained. "You know how pissed I was today when you almost got yourself killed?"

"Yes."

"You want to know why I was so upset, why I almost killed you myself?"

"I assumed it was because you were concerned for my welfare, which is a completely normal reaction."

"Normal? You believe that? You think every partner would want to shoot the weasel who did it and then want to fuck you stupid to make sure you were still alive, still real? Is that the kind of normal you're talking about, Fraser? Because if it is, we're on the same page here. If not, then maybe you'll understand why I'm walking around a little off and half crazy lately."

Fraser's face flushed a dark pink and his eyes widened. "You wanted to have sex with me after I was nearly killed?"

Nothing to stop him, Ray figured he might as well come clean, go for it, tell the whole story. "Yeah, and it kind of threw me once I figured out what it was. All this time, I thought I was just really pissed, and it turns out I'm not just mad mad, but just really pissed about being horny for my partner. Go figure."

Instead of walking away or punching him out, Fraser just shook his head in frustration. "Ray, Ray, Ray -"

"Jesus, Fraser, I know my own name already."

"Why didn't you just say something?"

"I couldn't. I honestly didn't know until today. I mean, I thought about it, thought about you and me, but I didn't put it together, didn't put the pieces together enough to see the whole picture. Then boom, there it was. It wasn't about me being pissed off all the time. It was about us and not being able to be the us I wanted."

"The us you wanted? What's the us you wanted?"

"I just told you."

"You said you wanted to make love to me."

It was Ray's turn to blush, to drop his gaze, totally unsure of his own sanity. He'd promised himself he'd never tell Fraser, that he'd keep it to himself, try to keep the partnership from being blown off the map. So much for good intentions. "Yeah, I did."

Fraser's fingers touched Ray's chin and brought his head up. "Ray, do you love me?"

Ray thought about lying, not opening himself up to being hurt all over again, but he couldn't. This was Fraser, the king of truth and tell it like it is even if tell it like it is hurts like a kick in the balls. "Yeah, I do. Nuts, huh?"

"Not at all. I love you, too."

Ray's jaw dropped. He put his index finger in his ear to clean the wax out and asked, "You what?"

"I said -"

"I heard what you said. Why'd you wait 'til now to say it?"

"Because I wasn't sure how the information would be received."

"Afraid I'd pop ya?"

"Or something worse. I thought it might end the partnership."

"And now?"

"Now, I'm pretty sure it won't."

"Pretty sure?"

Instead of answering with words, Fraser leaned in and kissed him, his tongue strong and hot as it slid between his lips. Suddenly light-headed, all the blood running south, Ray wrapped his arms around Fraser's waist and returned the favor.

++++++++++

Fraser kissed just like a god, or at least just like how Ray thought a god might kiss, all possessive and hard, his mouth finding just the right spots. They sank back into the sofa, going hot and heavy, Fraser's mouth latched onto Ray's throat, one hand roaming across his chest while the other rubbed between Ray's legs. Head swimming, Ray was good with that, had no problem at all with his partner going for it. Hell, Ray's rock hard dick had no problem with it, either, wanted Fraser to hurry it up, undo the zipper, and hit a home run.

Suddenly, it all came to a screeching halt and Fraser lifted his head, his lips all red and swollen. "Ray, we should stop."

"Stop?"

"We need to talk."

Ray shook his head before diving in for another taste of that gorgeous mouth. To hell with talking and working out the details. He didn't want that, didn't need it, at least not right that second when his dick had serious plans for half of all the blood in his system. But as always Fraser had to mess it all up. He put a hand on Ray's chest and held him back as he repeated, "We have to talk, Ray."

It took a few extra seconds to take that in, to realize that Fraser wasn't human after all, that he could just stop in the middle like that. Who could just stop like that and not go nuts? Apparently Fraser could. Fuck. Ray groaned and pulled away, sitting forward, his cock and balls complaining like crazy. "Fraser, this isn't the time to talk. I thought we were together on this, thought you wanted it, too."

"I do."

"No second thoughts?"

"Not in the least."

Frowning, Ray lifted his head and stared. "Then what the fuck are we stopping for? What's the problem?"

"You're the problem, Ray."

"Me? What'd I do?"

"You've been sublimating this desire for weeks now, perhaps even longer, substituting aggression for sexual attraction to your partner, something with which you're obviously not comfortable."

"Not comfortable? Did I seem not comfortable just a minute ago when I was sticking my tongue down your throat?"

"Well, no, but -"

"Then what the fuck are you talking about?"

Fraser put his hand on Ray's arm and stroked it, rubbed it up and down softly as he spoke, like he was gentling a wild horse or something. "Don't be angry, Ray, I just need to be sure you're not going to regret acting on your impulses before we go any further. I know it's entirely selfish on my part, but I don't think I could adequately deal with succumbing to your charms and then having you reject me later because of your fear of the homosexual aspect of the relationship."

Ray shook his head in amazement, his mouth hanging open. "You're unhinged, I mean it. Certifiable. You think I give a rat's ass that we're both guys?"

Surprised by Ray's strong reaction, Fraser pulled away then. He sat up a little straighter and nodded. "Well, yes. Why else would you be so vigilant in trying to suppress your attraction?"

"It's got nothing to do with you being a guy. I've been attracted to guys all my life. Even messed around with a few before I got married."

"You have? But I thought -"

"What? That just because I was married to Stella that I never got an itch, never wanted to fool around, that I went deaf, dumb, and blind or something?"

"Not at all, but I've never seen you react to a man the way you react to women."

Ray cocked his head at that, not sure how to take it. "How do I react to women?"

"With great interest."

"So?"

"So, you never do that with men."

Ray scratched his head and winced a little, figuring that to be fair, he owed Fraser a good explanation. "I might be liberated enough to realize I swing both ways, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid enough to let it show, at least not in a workplace that happens to be overrun with guys who make guys like Dewey look like the sensitive type."

"You're saying you kept these leanings a secret on purpose?"

"Yeah, pretty much the same way you did."

"I did not."

"Did, too. I mean, did you ever once light up around a guy like you did around that Bounty Hunter chick or even Thatcher sometimes?"

Fraser looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Inspector Thatcher is my superior officer. I do not, as you say, 'light up' around her."

"You do sometimes. You might not realize it, but you do."

Fraser touched his arm again, this time squeezing it gently. "I'm not interested in Meg Thatcher, Ray. I'm only interested in you."

"But you never showed it."

"I showed it in the ways I thought were appropriate to the situation. How was I supposed to know you had feelings for me if you kept them so well camouflaged?"

"You weren't supposed to know, nobody was."

"But why?"

"Because you're my partner, Fraser, and because you're you."

"I'm me? What's that mean?"

"It means what it means."

It was Fraser's turn to be frustrated. He ran a hand through his hair, desperately trying to translate Ray's meaning without all the code words, but it didn't work. "Ray, I have no idea what that means."

"I know."

Fraser waited another second before he pushed harder. "Ray, I have a right to know what me being me means in the context of this conversation, which, I must say, is becoming more and more confusing."

Sighing heavily, Ray slumped back in the sofa, his erection pretty much history and the sexual charge of just a few minutes ago leaving the room in a hurry. "Think about it, Fraser, try to see it from my point of view."

"I am, but I fail to see -"

"See, that's just it, you fail to see. You don't know what it's like being around you all the time, seeing how others see you, how they treat you, how they look up to you. You just don't see any of it. To you, it's just being you, but to everybody else it's like watching this guy from another planet walk around and fight crime, do good deeds, and just be an all around hero. You've even got your own trusty companions, the wolf and the sidekick."

"You're joking."

"Nope, I'm not."

"That's how you see me, as some caricature of a real person?"

"I didn't say that's how I see you. I said that's how other people see you, or at least most other people."

"I don't care about those other people, Ray. How do you see me?"

"That's the trouble."

"What's the trouble?"

"I saw you like they did for a while, but it didn't play, didn't feel right. It was off from what I expected."

"Are you saying you were disappointed?"

"Not disappointed, never disappointed, more like relieved. I mean, I read all the files and reports. I came in thinking I was going to be working with Dudley Do Right or some Nanuck of the North do-gooder, but you weren't anything like that. Sure, you're a super cop, but that's just cover."

"Cover?"

"For the fact that you don't think you're that special at all. Sure, you're confident about some things, think you know it all about others, but when it comes down to the personal stuff, you're as fucked up as I am." Fraser opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again, saying nothing. Ray reached over and took his hand. "I should've realized it sooner, but I didn't. I was too busy trying to figure out what the hell to do about it and ended up acting like a jerk instead."

"Ray, I still don't understand. What is it about me that you think is 'fucked up', as it were?

"You put up with shit, Fraser, not just from me, but from everybody." Before Fraser could say anything, Ray put a finger to his lips to shush him. "Just listen. You ever wonder why I went so long without a permanent partner? Because I can be a real asshole. You know that, you know how I am. I read people quick, know what buttons to push. Not many people put up with it for long, but I push yours all the time. The best you do is get snarky back, but you still stick around, still take it. I had to ask myself, why is that? Why doesn't he just pack his bag and find another partner like everybody else in my life? Then it hit me. You either don't think you deserve better or maybe there's something else, something I'm missing. Not for the first time in my life, I read it wrong. You didn't think you deserved to be treated like dirt. It was that you cared enough to stay, to figure out why I was acting like a banjo player with no banjo."

"I do care, Ray."

"I know you do, at least I do now." Ray scrubbed his face with his free hand, suddenly very tired. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's not the you others see that turns my crank. It's the real you, the guy you don't let everybody else see. You seem to save the good stuff for me and that's what gets me going."

Fraser squeezed his hand, his voice softer, more relaxed. "I turn your crank, Ray?"

"Oh, yeah, something awful."

"So you're saying you find me attractive?"

Ray snorted as he remembered the first time he'd said something similar to Fraser and how Fraser had actually told him yes. "Yeah, Fraser, I find you attractive, hot even."

"I find you to be hot as well, Ray, blazing, actually."

Smirking, getting the drift that Ben wasn't completely opposed to the whole situation, Ray leaned in closer and whispered, "So are we done talking yet or have you got more to say before we burn our fingers?"

Just inches away, Fraser cupped Ray's cheek. "I think it's fair to say that I'm satisfied with your answers."

"You are, huh?"

"Yes, Ray."

"So shut up and kiss me."

Finally, finally, Fraser followed orders and did what Ray told him to do, diving in with even more enthusiasm than before. Revved up from zero to sixty, Ray found it easy to get hard again. Within a few minutes, all out of breath, it was Ray who suddenly stopped the action. "Wait up."

His hair mussed and his lips swollen, Fraser panted, "What?"

"If we're going to do this, let's go to the bedroom. We're not teenagers making out on the couch before mum and dad get home. Let's do this like grownups."

Wasting no time, Fraser got up and took Ray's hand. He tugged him to his feet. "Agreed."

Once in the bedroom, Ray sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his boots first and then stripping off his T-shirt. As he stood up to unbutton his jeans, Fraser's hands went over his. "Allow me."

Ray stopped and stared into hungry eyes, grey-blue eyes he'd seen a million times before, but never like this, never nearly pitch black with desire. He swallowed hard and allowed Fraser to finish what he'd started, undoing the jeans and sliding them off. Fraser dropped to his knees and pulled Ray's briefs off and stayed there as he marveled at Ray's erection. "Ray, may I?"

"May you what?"

"Touch you?"

Ray grinned and shook his head in wonder. "You have to ask?"

"It's only polite."

"I've got news for you, Fraser. Polite is overrated in the bedroom. You see it, you can touch it. You can do anything you want."

"That's good to know, Ray. Thank you kindly."

Ray's laugh got swallowed when Fraser took him at his word and not only held his dick, but licked it. Ray fell back on the bed, his legs spread. "Holy Jesus."

Fraser didn't stop at licking, but went to town by taking Ray's dick into his mouth and sucking like an angel. Heat swept like wildfire up Ray's middle, his belly all tight, his balls pulling up. It took less than a minute for Ray's dick to explode. The pretty lights of sweet release sent him flying around in his head, his world swollen with wonder. Before he knew it, Fraser lay on the bed beside him, kissing him and tasting all sharp and bitter. His hands roamed along Ray's belly, teasing his bush and then up to play with his nipples.

By the time Ray caught his breath, he realized Fraser still wore his clothes. "What the fuck was that?"

"I believe it's referred to as fellatio."

"I'm not talking about the blowjob, Fraser. Why are you still in your pumpkin pants and I'm already one to nothing on the scoreboard?"

"Scoreboard? I wasn't aware we were keeping score, Ray."

Ray laughed deep in his throat, grateful for the fact that all the tension, all the release of tightness left him feeling more than a little generous to the guy who made it all happen. He reached down to check Fraser's erection and smirked. "Well, we are, so you need to catch up."

Picking up the cue, Fraser ran a finger along Ray's cheek and then across his lower lip. "How do you propose we do that?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"On what you want, what you like. I can return the favor or I can do something else. It's up to you. I mean, you can't tell me this is new to you, because I'd have to call you a liar."

Unfazed by the comment, Fraser just kept lazily stroking Ray's lower lip. "Why do you say that, Ray?"

"Nobody does a blowjob like that the first time, nobody, not even I can do anything Fraser."

Fraser met his gaze. "You may call me Ben, Ray."

"Ben Ray? Funny. My name's Ray, too."

Fraser pushed Ray on his back and covered him with his body, stretching out, his knees between Ray's legs and just barely on the bed. The words came out husky and raw. "It's not my first time with a man, no, but it's been a very long time since I've been with anyone."

Ben's erection pressed into Ray's belly through the fabric of the uniform pants. Ray teased, "Yeah, no kidding. I can tell. You're carrying a pretty fine piece of Canadian wood there. Want me to do something about that?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"How about helping me out here and getting out of your uniform? I mean, I can do kinky, but that's not really my thing."

"I thought you liked me in the uniform, Ray."

Flushing scarlet, Ray wondered how Ben picked up on that. "How'd you know?"

"You watch me. I thought it was just wishful thinking."

"And you think I watch you because of the uniform?"

"Are you saying you don't like me in uniform?"

"No, because it's never good to start out by lying to your partner, but I'd like you a lot better at the moment if you'd take it off."

"I'd be delighted." Ben kept his gaze locked with Ray's as he stood up and left him on the bed. He sat first in the chair and unlaced his boots, slipping them off faster than Ray ever thought possible. Then he stood up, taking off the braces first and then the Henley.

Ray always knew Ben was beautiful, but he wasn't prepared for the smooth white skin, the perfect belly and firm muscle under the serge. "Slow down. Take your time. I like to watch."

Ben didn't say anything, but nodded at the request, his tongue darting out and wetting his lower lip. Slowly, Ben removed his pants, taking time to fold them and put them on a chair, showing off his gorgeous, round ass. Then Ben stood there in his boxer briefs, briefs that were wet and stretched impressively at the crotch with Ben's leaking erection. Ray waved a hand. "Okay, finish. Show me the whole package."

Ben shuddered at the commands. He was so turned on, Ray saw Ben's cock twitch through the thin fabric. Using his thumbs, his gaze still locked with Ray's, Ben slipped off his underwear. He stood there in his full, uncut glory. Ben was magnificent and hard, jutting out of a dark, curly bush. A lot thicker than Ray and about the same length, Ben Fraser was more than a little well-hung.

Breathless, Ray shook his head, more than pleased with the revelation of the goods. "Jesus, you should stay naked forever."

That's when Ray got an answer to a question he'd always wondered about. He found out that Ben blushed all over when he got embarrassed. "That would make performing my duties at the Consulate and the Station a bit difficult, Ray."

"Who wants to work when they've got you?" Still on top of the covers, Ray scooted up higher in the bed and held out a hand. His own dick wanted to get hard again, but couldn't, not yet, but it wouldn't be long, not with all the action coming its way. "Come here."

Ben took his hand and eased in beside Ray, their mouths meeting and their tongues taking turns slipping and sliding away. Ray pulled back and asked, "What do you want, Ben? Tell me what you want. Anything you want and it's yours."

Instead of smiling, Ben frowned. "Are you sure, Ray?"

"What is it, Ben? What is it you want?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, but you still didn't answer the question."

"What would you like to do?"

"Uh huh. I asked first. You want me to suck you or would you rather do something else?" Ray slipped his hand down to Ben's dick and heard the sharp intake of breath. Ben's eyes closed as Ray stroked him. "I could just do this, you know, just to take the edge off. Then we can just mess around until we're both hard again. We can make a whole night of it."

"A whole life, perhaps?"

Ray kissed Ben's throat. "You bet."

Ben answered by shoving his dick into Ray's hand, thrusting and moaning, his face beet red and beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face. It only took a few pumps and Ben grunted, his face contorting as he came. His whole body jerked several times as he shot all over Ray's hand. Ray grinned, loving the look, the completely gone over the edge look of Ben just letting go and coming. It was wild to be holding Ben's dick in his hand and having him limp and helpless, breathing like a freight train. Ray couldn't remember when it'd been this good, this easy with anybody, even whatshername.

Ray kissed Ben's closed eyelids and then his mouth, tasting traces of his own sex mixed in with Ben's natural flavor. Ben opened his eyes, still winded and weak. Still he managed to whisper, "My god, Ray."

"Yeah, pretty good, huh?"

"That's putting it mildly."

"And we haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet."

"Good stuff? Ray, if it got much better, I might be in need of emergency services."

Ray snorted and buried his face against Ben's bare chest, the skin all salty and slick. Ben's fingers combed through Ray's hair and Ray kept his eyes closed and his hand on Ben's wilting dick. He didn't want to let go, to let this moment end, but it would. It would end like everything else, be over and done with, never to happen again.

After a few moments, Ben's heart rate dropped back to near normal and he asked, "Are you all right, Ray?"

"I'm fine, I'm great."

Ben reached over to the bedside table and got a Kleenex, no handkerchiefs for Ray. He sat up as he wiped himself and then Ray's hand. He threw it away and once again drew Ray back against him, his arms around Ray's shoulders and neck as he sat propped up against one of the pillows against the headboard. "That was wonderful, Ray. Thank you."

"One to one, we're even."

Ben squeezed him and then kissed his cheek. "I don't believe in keeping score, Ray. It's not a competition or a contest."

Ray shook his head. "I come, you come, fair and square. None of this nobler than thou shit in the bedroom, okay?"

"You're sure?"

"For now, yeah. When we get old and grey and our weenies wither away, then we'll renegotiate the contract, okay?"

"Our weenies, Ray?"

"Don't pretend you don't know what a weenie is, Fraser."

"It's Ben."

Ray sighed and nodded. "Ben, right. It might take me a minute to get used to it."

"You can still call me Fraser if you want."

"No, Ben's good, Ben's very good, but I might still call you Fraser when I get pissed or we're on the job, that is if I've still got a job to go to after the way I screwed up."

"Perhaps if you explained to Lt. Welsh -"

Ray turned his head and looked at Ben like he had lost his mind. "Tell him what? That I got laid by my partner and now I'm all better? Somehow I don't think that'll work."

"No, I don't think it will, either."

Ray shifted around, sitting between Ben's legs as he got the cover over him, drawing it up to his waist. He relaxed and then asked something that niggled. "What did you and Welsh talk about?"

"It was a private conversation."

"It was about me, right?"

"Ray -"

"No, seriously, it's okay. I know it was about me. He thinks I'm losing it, that I'm a lousy cop."

Ben's arms tightened and then he kissed Ray on the side of his neck. "On the contrary, Ray. Lt. Welsh thinks you're a fine officer, but perhaps under a bit too much pressure. He assumes it's a delayed response to the Orsini situation."

"Like you did."

"Yes, but neither of us had the full picture, as it were."

"So now what? I have to go to some shrink and convince him that I'm okay, that I can control myself now that I've got what I need in my life?"

Ben's voice softened. "Am I really what you need, Ray?"

"You better believe it."

They sat quietly for a few more moments before Ray complained, "I really don't want to deal with some shrink."

"I don't see an alternative, Ray. Actually, to ease your fears, I do know a counselor you could see."

Ray frowned, not sure if he wanted to know. "How come you know a counselor?"

"Well, as you know, the service requires its members to undergo psychological testing from time-to-time."

"Yeah, so?"

"While my most recent scores were adequate, it was obvious that I had certain issues that were impeding my job performance. I talked to Dr. Sharma several times and he made me feel more secure about my mental state. I'm sure he could help you, too, Ray, that is if you're willing to give up your male posturing long enough to allow him access to the real Ray Kowalski."

"Male posturing? You think I've got an attitude?"

"You define attitude, Ray."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes. It's a common defense mechanism, but one that can lead to friction, much like the perpetual conflict you have with Detective Dewey."

"That's not so much conflict as a given."

"Ray -"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's got to stop."

"Do you mind my asking if there's a particular reason for the animosity between you and Detective Dewey?"

"He's got a gutter mouth."

"That's hardly a reason to -"

"About you."

Surprised, Ben stiffened, the mattress shifting beneath them. "About me? Do I want to know what he said?"

"Suffice it to say, he called you something you're good at, though I didn't know that at the time. If I had, maybe I wouldn't have wanted to belt him one when he said it."

Kissing his temple, Ben smiled as he whispered, "I appreciate you defending my honor, Ray, but I assure you, it's not necessary."

"Yeah, yeah, I get that. I don't give a shit about what some numbskull like Dewey thinks." Ray gave a heavy sigh. "Might as well give this guy of yours a shot. Maybe he can give me some pointers on how to ignore the little peabrain. I mean, I have to do something and it's not like I have a lot of choices."

"I think you'll like him. He's got a lovely set of Rorschach."

"Rorschach?"

"Inkblots."

"Right, inkblots. This is going to be fun."

"The word association tests can be quite enlightening as well."

"Is this about the closet thing you were talking about? He says closet, you say chainsaw?"

"Thus the consultation."

Ray laughed, tickled by the thought of his by-the-book partner thinking about chainsaws and closets in the same sentence. "Gotcha."

"So, you'll call for an appointment then?"

"Sure, yeah, why not?"

Relaxed and feeling good, better than he had in years, Ray closed his eyes. "We should probably order a pizza or something. We didn't get supper."

"A pizza would be fine. We should probably also pick up Diefenbaker from the Consulate."

Ray rubbed the back of his head against Ben's chest. "Is that your way of saying you'll spend the night?"

"I'd love to spend the night."

"How about longer?"

"Longer?"

"Yeah, how about moving out of that closet of an office and into my place?"

Ben didn't even hesitate, didn't even mention about jumping the gun. Instead, he whispered, "I'd love to move in with you. I do, however, insist on paying half the rent and the other expenses."

"What? You think I'd let you freeload?"

"It never crossed my mind, Ray."

"Good, because I'm all about splitting down the middle and being fair. No free rides around this place."

"Of course not."

"But we can talk about sharing the housework if you want."

"Housework, Ray? I wasn't aware you even knew what that meant."

Ray groaned, knowing full well Ben had a point, but wasn't going to let him know that. "I clean."

"Once every six months isn't cleaning, Ray. It's finding a path to the door."

"One time, one time you have to kick a path through stuff and some people never let you forget it."

Ben kissed his cheek. "It doesn't matter, Ray. We'll work it out."

"Yeah?"

"If I can cohabitate with a slovenly wolf, I can certainly manage living with you."

"You comparing me to the wolf?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good, because I'm way better than him." Ray turned, his expression suddenly more predatory, his dick working its way to happy again. "Want me to show you some of the stuff I can do that makes up for me being a slob?"

Ben cupped Ray's face with both hands and smiled, his eyes sparkling blue and his words warmer than sunshine. "Show me."

All his anger melted away, the resentments, the rants, all the petty little rages that warred in Ray's head. Instead, all he heard were those words, that intimate invitation, from the man he loved, a guy as different from him as night and day. Somehow, none of that mattered. They could do this, yin and yang, push and shove. They fit together and, as crazy as it seemed, it worked, made Ray tingle all over and want more.

Kissing Ben gave him a future he could believe in, one he wanted to fight for and win. Smiling, suddenly more sure than he'd ever been before, Ray pushed Ben back against the pillow before diving in to the welcoming world of true partnership.

The End