Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em and hand 'em back, none the worse for wear.

Author's Notes: I briefly OD'd on Geometry, here's a few other bits to read while I get back into the swing of it. This is a holiday story I started back in November, but didn't finish in time for Christmas.

Story Notes: A due South/Highlander/Mortal Kombat crossover. It's intended to be a 2 or 3 part story, i.e., fairly short for me.
It's set after 'Hunting Season' and before 'Call of the Wild', and departs from canon in only one respect; another year has passed with the first Ray Vecchio undercover, and Christmas has rolled around again. ('Call of the Wild' happens in early March, if you didn't know.)

Standing at the Fedex office, Fraser waited patiently as the line in front of him inched forward. The place was hopping on Christmas Eve, he'd been waiting for ten minutes already and looked to be here another twenty at least. He hoped Ray and Diefenbaker weren't too bored waiting in the parking lot. Ray had waved aside the offer to drop him off, ignoring Fraser's protestations he could walk over to Ray's apartment from here, and just turned up the Christmas music on the GTO's radio so he and the wolf could listen while they waited.

His present for his sister Maggie had arrived at the Consulate only this morning, so Overnight Express was the only way it might arrive in time for Christmas, and even FedEx wasn't guaranteeing delivery given the howling nor'easter barreling down on Chicago off the Lake called Michigan. Forty inches of snow were predicted to fall in the next forty-eight hours and the Mayor had made a special announcement asking all citizens to get home and stay home for Christmas, and keep the roads as open as possible for plows and emergency services. The whole city was hunkering down for a white Christmas, and somewhat to his surprise, he and Diefenbaker were spending it at Ray's apartment.

Normally, they'd have been at the Vecchios' for Christmas, but a Vecchio cousin in Milwaukee, Constanza, was getting married Christmas Eve, and explaining to the entire Vecchio clan why Ray was suddenly a completely different person had been ruled too dangerous by Lieutenant Welsh. So Frannie and the rest of the Vecchios had left for Milwaukee yesterday with the excuse Ray was working a difficult case and forced to remain behind. To Fraser's surprise, Ray Kowalski had gone out and picked up a very expensive present -a Waterford crystal vase- wrapped it personally and sent it along with Frannie. When questioned on his motives, Ray had been badly embarrassed and muttered something about if he was living another man's life, he might as well do a better job than he had with his own, and then told Fraser flatly to drop it.

Fraser's attention was wrenched back to the present when the blond standing in front of him in line swayed slightly and put a hand to her forehead. Under her moss-green fleece headband her face was as white as the falling snow outside. Fraser reached out instinctively and put a hand under her elbow.

"Are you all right, Miss?"

She swayed further and Fraser quickly set his package down by his feet and caught her with both hands. Her body weighed curiously little, supported in his arms, and as Fraser looked down into her face his throat dried up.

The darkest green eyes he'd ever seen were fixed on his face, huge, wide and a-swirl with sick dizziness.

"I'm sorry, I... can you make the room stop spinning? Ohh..." Long, tangled, blond-tipped lashes weighted down her eyelids as she reeled.

Fraser braced her against his chest one-armed, extracted a tube of smelling salts from his cartridge case and waved it under her nose capably as the rest of the people in line watched, wearing vaguely concerned expressions. What could be the problem? She wasn't overheated; her color was marble-white and the slim body in his arms was chilled. Her clothing appeared sufficient for the weather, flannel-lined jeans, warm fur boots and a sheepskin-lined leather jacket in butter-soft moss green suede that flattered her eyes and blond colors. Even a cashmere scarf, judging from the soft feel of the end brushing his cheek as he held her, all of that should be keeping her warm enough.

But her head jerked briefly at the sharp bite of the smelling salts, and a faint flush of rose colored her cheeks as those green eyes snapped open again, wide and startled but coherent. Fraser tucked the spent vial back into his cartridge case.

"Is she all right?" The FedEx clerk asked uncertainly.

"She appears to have had a brief dizzy spell," Fraser explained, exuding calm to reassure the nervous older woman behind the counter. "She seems to be recovering, however." Supporting her body took no effort, and Fraser found he was very reluctant to release her, and rationalized it by telling himself he merely wished to be sure she did not fall.

"I'm fine, thank you," she said to the clerk, smiling with an effort. "Just a little shaky for a minute."

The clerk and customers appeared grateful the momentary distraction was over and turned back to their transactions. It made a strange little bubble of privacy and Fraser looked down to find her studying the insignia on his uniform collar curiously.

"Thank you for your assistance, Constable," she said softly.

"My pleasure," he said sincerely.

A ghost of a smile washed briefly over her lips. Fraser wished it had stayed longer.

"Could I trouble you for your support a little longer?"

"As long as you like." Where had that slip of the tongue come from? He'd meant to say 'as long as you require'.

"Thank you again."

"Do you mind if I ask when you last ate?"

She tried to count back hours and got tangled in time zones. "Changing planes in Tokyo yesterday, I think. Or is that two days ago with the time zone differential? My flight from Honolulu into LAX was late and I didn't have time to grab anything so I could catch my plane to New York, and then JFK closed down and my flight got diverted here. O'Hare's closed down for the duration of the storm so I couldn't fly out and there wasn't a hotel room to be had in the entire town..."

Fraser backtracked her itinerary from the time he knew the FAA closed the airport and came to the appalled conclusion she probably hadn't eaten for over thirty-six hours.

"You're suffering from low blood sugar." He rummaged in a pea coat pocket and came up with a small box of chocolate Turnbull pressed on him during the Consulate Christmas party. "Try this."

She cocked a wry eyebrow. "Is taking candy from strange Mounties an exception to the 'don't take candy from strangers' rule?"

Fraser kept a straight face. "Perhaps you might consider me an old friend you just hadn't met yet?"

A small, weary laugh escaped her mouth as she took a chocolate. "I'm too tired to argue, Constable."

Watching those slim fingers lift the candy to her pale lips was... distracting, and Fraser was suddenly glad he was wearing so many layers of clothing. Her proximity was... quite stimulating. By the time she finished the second piece of candy, her color was almost normal and the warmth had returned to the hand he was holding.

Wait, he was holding her hand? Yes, the arm he had around her waist had her left hand resting over his, and his fingers were intimately intertwined with hers. Oh dear, his thumb had been stroking her hand all this time and he hadn't even noticed. If he stopped now she might feel... rejected. That would never do.

"Eat it all, " he urged gently, holding out the remaining two pieces of chocolate. "Why haven't you eaten?"

"No time," she said, weariness shadowing her face as she took a third candy. "It's been one disaster after another ever since I set foot in this city. If I didn't know better I'd think I was cursed."

Recalling his brush with the forces of magic and voodoo, Fraser forbore to comment on that possibility. "Is there any way I can be of assistance?"

"No, I got it covered, it's just been rough."

"Perhaps you could acquaint me with the circumstances?"

"Pretty persistent, aren't you?"

Fraser tugged at his ear thoughtfully. "I prefer to think of it as the ability to stay focused on a desired goal."

"Really. The short version is, en route to New York from Hong Kong, I went to Chicago; my luggage went to Denver. I'm stuck here until the airport reopens and I don't know a soul in this entire city. The only room I could get is in a hotel so bad the roaches travel in packs for self-defense, and while I was in the lobby buying a soda and trying to get my cell phone to work, my room got broken into and everything except the clothes on my back got stolen. I had to walk seventeen blocks to the nearest Western Union office to get money; then waited an hour for a taxi to get here 'cause I just couldn't walk that far. And after I pick up my three-times rerouted Christmas presents which despite the fact I can't get out did manage to get in -which frankly baffles me- I do get to walk back to that rattrap because every cab company in this town is booked solid or shut down completely. I haven't slept in two days and as you so cogently pointed out, I couldn't even tell you the last time I ate. This Christmas is, if I might be so blunt, really sucking."

Fraser frowned, visibly disturbed at her explanation. "Might I at least offer you a ride back to your hotel? And perhaps an escort to your room?"

"Not necessary, but it was kind of you to offer."

"I wasn't offering," Fraser said pointedly. "In fact, I think I might be insisting."

"Persistent," she said dryly.

"Concerned."

"Persistent."

"Courteous?"

"Persistent." The girl must be channeling Ray in her exhaustion.

"Persistent," Fraser admitted, curious to see if she would inadvertently mimic the rest of Ray's responses.

"Thank you," she said wryly, her smile warm with affection like Ray's so often was.

"You're welcome," he said automatically. Apparently so.

"You're next, Miss." The FedEx clerk's comment made both look up. The man in the wool topcoat and three-piece suit in front of them in line had picked up his package, and one of the two clerks on duty was looking inquiringly at Fraser holding the girl.

Fraser reluctantly released her as she murmured another thank you and stepped up to the counter. She hadn't looked particularly happy to be let go, he noticed. Perhaps Ray would not object to a guest for Christmas dinner tomorrow? It was a shame to think of someone so nice all alone in a dingy hotel room for the holidays. Fraser snorted to himself. Ray upset at offering hospitality to a beautiful stranded traveler? Hardly. Perhaps they could find a way to suggest it on the way to her hotel. She was probably hoping to make her escape while he was occupied with getting his package mailed out, but Fraser had no intention of allowing that.

And then everything seemed to happen at once...

* * *

Out in the parking lot, Ray and Dief were singing along lustily with Dr. Demento's longing for a hippo for the holidays when the side door to the blue van parked across the snowy lot slid open and Ray's cop instincts screamed an instant warning. He grabbed the radio and called for backup as two men in jackets and ski masks leaped out of the van and ran for the FedEx office. Even ski masks in this weather might be allowable, but the handguns were definitely not standard cold-weather gear.

Ray eased out of the car, holding the door open for Diefenbaker as the wolf slipped out and immediately broke left to bracket the crooks as they busted through the FedEx office doors. Ray grinned and broke right. Jeez, he and the wolf had this teamwork thing down now, even without Fraser around. Good thing, too, 'cause if he knew Fraser the big lug was probably stepping in front of a bullet right now. He moved faster.

* * *

"Everybody on the floor!"

Back in the FedEx office, the older woman clerk behind the counter screamed deafeningly at the sight of guns and dropped flat. The two gunmen ignored her and the other wide-eyed male clerk, who backed up against the rear wall with both hands up and watched the scene unfold. One gunman covered Fraser and the blond, other zeroed in on the man in the topcoat and suit.

"Gimme the package," the taller gunman said shortly. "And nobody gets hurt."

The man shook his head and backed up, clinging to the box, terrified but refusing to surrender it.

"Don't be stupid," he said warningly. "It ain't worth dyin' for."

"Perhaps you should give it to him," Fraser said calmly. "While I disagree with his course of action, there is no cogent reason to die for whatever that box contains."

"Shut up, you," the shorter gunman snarled, pointing the pistol straight at Fraser. And took his attention off the blond girl, who was taking a slow, cautious step back, putting her spine up against the countertop. Out of the corner of his eye Fraser saw her tense, the energy in her body coiling up like a snake about to strike.

"Hey, assholes!" she yelled, and the two gunmen's pistols swung around and pointed at her.

Apparently that was all she'd been waiting for, and the blond moved so fast she was only a blur. Her hands slapped down on the counter, each hand closing around one of the pens chained there. She snapped the chains with a jerk and threw the pens at the gunmen as Fraser watched in stunned amazement. Each pen slammed into the pistol barrel and lodged, silver chains dangling from the barrel apertures.

Fraser's jaw dropped. She'd blocked the barrels! With pens?

The gunmen's jaws dropped a second behind his as they both grabbed the trailing chains and tried to pull them loose. At least they had the sense not to fire the guns like that; the backfire would have blown their heads off.

"Now you're mine," the blond snarled, and leaped for the taller gunman, leading with a roundhouse kick that would have flattened an opponent twice his size.

Fraser shook off his paralysis and tackled the shorter gunman, bearing him to the ground with punishing impact as 200-odd pounds of fast-moving Mountie knocked him flat. The air whooshed out of his lungs as Fraser snapped a short, fast punch to his jaw and the perp's eyes rolled up in his head.

The blond folded her opponent in half with that kick, and Fraser winced as he distinctly heard ribs snap. Her hand scythed down on the back of his neck in a competition-class karate strike that dropped him to the floor, out cold.

She whirled around in a fighting crouch to see if he needed help, straightened up and grinned at the sight of him trussing up the perp with his lanyard. Fraser grinned right back, just couldn't help it, the unspoken communication with her was so similar to his partner's bond with Ray, he could literally feel her thinking 'we did it!' in wired triumph.

"You two shouldn'ta done that."

Fraser and the blond looked over to where the male clerk was now pointing a big-bore revolver straight at them. Their gazes snapped back at each other, both thinking 'he's the inside man'.

"Don't do anything foolish," Fraser said calmly, rising slowly to his feet. From his vantage point he could see Ray running toward them, if they could just stall for a minute more...

"Too late for that," the clerk said, and the gun swung toward Fraser and his finger squeezed shut on the trigger. Fraser braced himself for the shock but the blond was already moving, another of those blindingly fast motions almost too fast for the eye to follow, and as her arms locked around Fraser's neck he felt the impact course through her body as the first bullet hit her. The clerk cursed and emptied the pistol in reaction, and in the back of his mind Fraser counted the shots as his arms closed around the girl and he tried to throw them sideways out of the line of fire.

Six bullets in a revolver, and as the sixth retort rang out he heard Ray hit the door, go through it and snap off one perfect shot that caught the clerk in the right bicep, spinning him around as the empty gun went clattering to the floor.

"ON THE FLOOR!" Ray bellowed, and as Diefenbaker came streaking over to Fraser, he sank to his knees, supporting the blond's body gently in his arms as the floor under their feet was suddenly awash with a spreading pool of blood.

"Why?" Fraser asked, his voice broken, lost, hurting.

"You helped me when I needed it," she said softly, reaching up and touching his cheek gently, the light in her eyes already fading. "It's all right."

"No, please, don't..." Utterly helpless as she lay dying in his arms, Fraser looked up to see Ray skidding to a stop next to him, dropping to his knees and cursing a blue streak.

"It'll be all right," she said again, smiling up, and as her breath rattled and stopped, those brilliant green eyes closed and her body went lax in his arms, her head drooping against his chest.

"No," Fraser said brokenly, and Ray's arms went around his partner as Diefenbaker lifted his head and howled his anguish, giving voice to the despairing scream locked inside Fraser.

* * *

An hour later, Ray was glaring at the perps as a bunch of uniforms took them away, and Huey and Dewey took statements from the clerk and the suited man, whose name Ray still didn't know.

Turned out the suit was picking up a package of matching diamond tennis bracelets for his wife and three daughters. He'd called the FedEx office to see if the package made it through in time for Christmas, and stupidly mentioned the contents to the clerk who took the call. The lowlife clerk saw the opportunity to snag a fat Christmas present of his own and called two gang-banger friends to bring him a gun and set up a quick snatch-and-grab while the guy was driving over to pick up his package. Pathetic. Ray wanted to kick the clerk's bastard head in; some kindhearted citizen was dead on Christmas Eve and Fraser...

Fraser was still sitting beside the dead girl, Diefenbaker right beside him, the Mountie so traumatized Ray didn't have a fucking clue what to do with him. He and the wolf refused to leave her side, and Dief's white fur was soaked red from the appalling pool of blood now nearly dry on the floor.

Ray nudged Huey and pulled him away from the clerk he was interviewing. "Look, can you take over booking these jerk offs? I gotta do something with Fraser, he's comin' apart at the seams."

Huey looked over at Fraser, shook his head and looked away, mouth tightening in shared misery. "I got the story from the clerk. She and Fraser stopped the two perps and the inside guy tried to pop them. She took the shots for him?"

Ray nodded, sickened over it all. "All six. They're still in the body. I can't believe she blocked the barrels with pens. We'd have four corpses insteada one." Ray didn't say 'and one would be my partner' but Huey heard it anyway.

"Yeah, that's a problem."

"Whadda ya mean?"

"The meat wagon got wrapped around a streetlight on the way here, driver hit an ice patch. We got no way to get the corpse back to the station. As it is we're gonna have to lock up the office and let forensics do their thing once the storm stops. It's getting worse out there by the second."

Ray had forgotten about the weather, and as he glanced outside he saw the thickly falling snow was now a full-scale blizzard. Visibility was shit and the GTO was already six inches deep in snow.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"We could stick her in the trunk and take her back to the station that way," Dewey offered, he'd finished with the intended victim and the guy was being given a ride home, too shaken to drive.

Ray bridled at the unpleasant thought but all three men jumped a foot as Fraser spoke.

"We'll take her back," Fraser said quietly, standing behind them with the girl's body in his arms. "If that's all right with you, Ray?"

Ray's heart went out to his partner. "Sure thing, buddy."

"Take her over to the 17th, it's on your way home from here," Huey said. "I'll do the paperwork on our end and we'll get the body moved after the storm's over." He reached out and clasped Fraser's shoulder briefly. "Not your fault, man."

"Thank you kindly, Detective Huey," Fraser said quietly.

"Officer?" The lady clerk held out two purple and orange boxes. "They were hers. She'd signed for them, legally we can't keep them."

Ray reached out and took the boxes. "Thanks, ma'am, we'll take care of it."

"She was so brave..." The clerk said hesitantly.

"Yes," Fraser said, again so stoic and quiet. "She was."

Ten minutes later Huey and Dewey were pulling out with the lady clerk in their car after locking the doors and securing them with lurid yellow and black police tape. Ray tossed the still-anonymous girl's packages into the trunk together with the present for Maggie that was definitely not making it in time for Christmas now. Despite Dewey's grotesque suggestion, they were putting her body in the back seat. The still-shocked clerk had provided them with two packing blankets to wrap her body in. Ray rather thought Fraser would go flat-out postal if they'd tossed her in the trunk like so much garbage. He'd have done the same.

Ray swept the GTO off and held open the passenger door for Fraser as he lowered the blanket-wrapped bundle onto the back seat. Dief whined and jumped in, curling up by her feet. The wolf was in full-on mourning mode; like nothing Ray had ever seen, and he was half-convinced it was the visible manifestation of the grief and guilt Fraser was keeping locked up tight inside him.

He started the GTO and pulled out cautiously, the streets were all but deserted, thankfully. The city plows were criss-crossing the streets regularly, but the snow was falling so fast they were steadily losing the battle to keep the roads clear.

Ray was grateful Fraser was remaining quiet, allowing Ray to concentrate on navigating the dangerous roads, but truthfully he was thinking at full speed. This was a disaster. Fraser was calm on the outside, but Ray knew damn good and well that just meant there was a train wreck going on inside. His partner was going to need serious help to get through this and Ray was going to have to be the one to provide it, Fraser would accept it from no one else. Thank Christ they were already headed for his apartment, Ray would be worried about Fraser sucking a bullet if he spent Christmas alone at the Consulate after this.

They had almost reached the 17th when Dief suddenly yelped in what sounded like shocked surprise and sprang to his feet in the backseat. Fraser turned around as Ray glanced into the rear view. Dief was standing over the girl's body with a look of almost human amazement in his furry face, and as his ears perked forward he abruptly began scrabbling at the packing blankets frantically, struggling to uncover her.

"Diefenbaker, stop that!" Fraser was shocked at his old friend's bizarre behavior, and unsnapping his seatbelt, started to lean over the seat to haul the wolf off her body. Dief evaded his hand and managed to uncover the girl's white face and began licking it energetically.

"Aagh, Dief, that's disgusting!" Ray yelled, pulling the GTO over and turning around to help Fraser pull the wolf off. And so they were both staring right at the girl's face as those green eyes snapped open and her whole body arched up as she took a huge, gasping breath.

"Sonofabitch!" Ray yelped, and he and Fraser swapped flabbergasted glances as she rolled half onto her side and began coughing frantically, holding one hand to her mouth as a trickle of blood ran through her fingers. Standing over her like a furry guardian angel, Dief yipped urgently at Fraser and half in a trance, Fraser pulled out a snowy white handkerchief and held it out. Dief's muzzle snatched it from his fingers and pushed it into her hand. She took it and held it to her mouth, thick, heavy coughs tearing at her body, her other arm curling around the wolf's neck for support.

As Fraser and Ray watched, paralyzed in shock, she choked for breath and seemed to cough up something, clearing her airways. As the coughs ceased and her fingers closed around the bloody handkerchief, she slumped back against the seat cushions, her eyes fastened on them in near panic.

"Oh, shit," she said, trying to scrabble away from them and finding she had no place to go, trapped in the back seat. "Lemme outta here," she said, half-hysterical as one arm clung tightly to Dief. "Let me go!"

Ray shook loose from his paralysis first. "Take it easy," he said, trying to sound composed when he was so wired he was ready to explode. "Calm down." What the bloody fucking hell was going on here? She was dead! Dead people didn't just wake up!

Dief whined urgently and shoved himself right into the girl's arms, licking her face with an accompanying string of complicated rumbling vocalizations.

She froze and stared at the wolf. "You talk?" she blurted out, shocked motionless but at least she wasn't hysterically trying to rip her way out of the car through the metal frame. Dief whined urgently and turned to Fraser, growling purposefully.

Fraser snapped loose from his stunned state and cleared his throat. "Yes, he does talk. Most people can't understand him, however."

She fastened her eyes on him and Fraser flinched to see the bone-deep fear there.

"Please let me go," she said, struggling to remain calm even as she clung tightly to Diefenbaker. "I haven't done anything to you."

"You sacrificed your life to save mine," Fraser said quietly. "Doesn't that count?"

"Look, we're not gonna hurt you," Ray interrupted. "You're safe. Please stop looking like we're about to kill you again."

Both Fraser and the girl flinched hard but as Dief rumbled out another long phrase, some of the wire-tight tension filling the car drained away.

"We should take you to a hospital," Fraser said firmly.

The tension level skyrocketed back up.

"No doctors!" she almost screamed, trying to control her voice as terror flashed back into her face. "No hospitals! Please! Just let me go," she begged, nearly in tears.

Fraser and Ray exchanged helpless glances. They were terrorizing her. Only Diefenbaker was getting through. Lost and baffled by this bizarre situation, Ray did what he did best, and went with his instincts.

"Dief, talk to her!" Ray said urgently. "Tell her it's OK!"

The wolf did just that. He licked her cheek and shoved his muzzle right under her chin, and vocalized for several minutes straight while Fraser and Ray sat passively in the front seat. The girl put her face up against the wolf's ear and whispered back several times. The terror in her face gradually faded as the wolf went on, and Ray wondered briefly what the hell the wolf was telling her.

Ray finally gave in and asked. "What's he saying?" he whispered to Fraser.

"He's telling her about us," Fraser explained. "That she can trust him. Trust us." Even his Mountie stoicism was unable to cope with this, and emotions were chasing themselves across his face plain as print. Shock, amazement, confusion and disbelief swirled and clashed with soul-deep gratitude and relief... and something Ray couldn't put a finger on.

"That all?"

"No."

"What else?"

"He wants to take her home with us, as she has nowhere else to go and refuses any sort of medical attention."

Ray looked surprised. "Good idea. Smart wolf."

"Diefenbaker is promising her his personal protection if she comes. She does not seem amenable to the idea, but Dief is wearing her down. She is exhausted to the point of collapse and..." Fraser flinched. "Very frightened, although she is trying hard to control it."

"Yeah, well, bein' dead'll do that to you."

Fraser looked positively sick. "Would you please stop saying that, Ray?"

"Is it upsetting her?"

"No. It's upsetting me."

"Oh. Right. Sorry, buddy."

Finally Dief ran down and whining one last time nuzzled her cheek, his wolf eyes pleading.

"All right," she said, too tired to argue anymore. She rested her head against the wolf's furry shoulder. "You win. I'll come."

Dief yipped in triumph and licked her face energetically, his tail wagging like a victory banner. He looked right at Ray and rumbled.

Ray didn't need anyone to tell him what the wolf meant this time.

"You got it, buddy," he said, pulling back out into the snow-covered street. "Home it is."

Twenty minutes later they finally reached his apartment building and Ray parked the GTO with a sense of relief. The streets had gone from dangerous to deadly, and the snow was piling up so fast visibility was down to ten feet at the most.

Fraser got out of the car and held the door so Dief could hop out of the backseat. The wolf jumped out and turned around, yipping encouragement to their unexpected Christmas guest.

Fraser held out a hand to help her out and she stared at it like it might bite; then realized what he was doing. She bit her lip, reached out hesitantly and put her hand in his. It was warm from the wolf's body heat and a few strands of Dief's fur clung to her fingers. Fraser helped her out and as she stood up Fraser nearly retched as he got a good look at her. Her clothes and hair were drenched and matted with dried blood and six bullet holes were clearly visible through the back of her leather jacket. Fraser reached back into the car and grabbed a blanket off the backseat. His bloodstained handkerchief was lying on the seat and something silver glinted in the folds. Propelled by an impulse he didn't understand, Fraser reached down, scooped up the cloth and its contents and stuffed it into a pocket before wrapping the blanket around her, hiding that appalling sight from view.

She jerked nervously as the blanket touched her but calmed a little at Dief's reassuring whine as the wolf pressed tight up against her side. "Thank you," she said automatically.

"You're welcome," Fraser said, just as automatically. Banal formality was getting them through this, how did one react when a genuine Christmas miracle happened in the backseat of your partner's car?

"Come on," Ray said gently. He didn't touch her, but gestured toward the front door. She followed him up the steps and into the building, skittish as a wild thing but remaining calm as long as Dief was pressed right up against her side. Fraser followed them down the hallway to Ray's apartment door, and waited patiently as Ray unlocked it. As Ray stood back and gestured for her to precede him into the apartment, all three heard the scream of automobile brakes outside, punctuated by the slam and crunch of metal.

Fraser and Ray swapped torn glances; cop reflexes urging them check it out warring with the urge to not let this strange waif out of their sight for an instant. Once again Dief took charge, barking encouragingly as he shepherded the girl into Ray's apartment.

"Diefenbaker will attend to our guest," Fraser said calmly. "If there's been an accident, we should see if someone needs our help."

Ray did not look particularly convinced. "You gonna be OK with the wolf?" he asked her bluntly.

She nodded.

Ray shrugged, giving into the necessity, muttering something under his breath to Diefenbaker. "Help yourself to anything in the place, huh?" he said louder. "Clothes in the bedroom if you wanna get cleaned up or whatever. Lock the door behind us," he warned her.

She nodded again and when Ray closed the door he heard the lock click shut.

"C'mon, Frase. Let's go see." And Fraser followed his partner back down the hallway and out into the storm.

* * *

"Two hours, Fraser," Ray grumbled later, stomping the snow off his boots outside his apartment door. "Two hours ta dig that pair a' yuppies out. We were supposed ta have the tree up, the place decorated and be sittin' on our butts watching Rudolph by now. Instead, we're soaked, frozen and there's a girl in my apartment who died savin' yer life today. Only she didn't stay dead. Even fer us, this rates as a weird-ass Christmas."

"I admit this has been an eventful day, Ray, but you wouldn't have wanted us to leave that couple in the snow? What kind of Christmas spirit is that?" He deliberately avoided the topic of their unexpected Christmas guest. Connoisseur of the uber-weird that he was, Ray was taking the whole return-from-the-dead thing a lot better than Fraser. The Mountie was only dealing with it by not dealing with it; he'd locked it all up in that dark place where he kept his deepest emotions. He'd have to deal with it at some point, but not now. Not until he had more of an idea of what he was dealing with.

In truth, both Ray and Fraser had been grateful for the normalcy of digging the stranded car out of the snow bank and the sheer physical exertion burned off the remaining freaky tension brought on by the bizarre happenings of the afternoon. The couple in the car were very grateful for the help and pressed a bottle of expensive champagne on them as a thank-you before they got back on the road, the driver promising to inch the rest of their way home. He and Ray might be exhausted, but they were back to normal... or as normal as they got, anyway.

"They were yuppies, Fraser, they'd a had a tow truck there in forty minutes." Ray waved the rest of Fraser's protest away as he started stripping off his snow-encrusted outerwear. "Fergit it, let's check on our guest."

"You think she's still here?" Fraser followed Ray's example, not wanting to track snow all over the apartment's hardwood floors.

"I think Dief woulda come got us if she'd tried ta take off."

"What makes you think that, Ray?"

"I asked him to."

Fraser ran a knuckle over his eyebrow. "That would suffice, I suppose."

Ray straightened up and nailed his partner by eye. "She saved yer life, Fraser. There's no way in hell the wolf and I are lettin' her run off alone in the middle of a blizzard after gettin' killed Christmas Eve. That's not the Christmas spirit."

"I can't argue with that, Ray, but..." Fraser's voice trailed off as he and Ray stepped into the apartment.

"Wow," Ray said, seriously impressed. "Just... wow."

"Indeed, Ray." Fraser had never seen Ray's apartment look like this before. It was, to start with, spick-and-span clean, which was unusual enough; but during the last two hours, it had metamorphosed into immaculately tidy as well as quite festively decorated.

Ray seldom cleaned but when he did, he generally scrubbed everything to within an inch of its life and then ignored it for four to six months. Fraser happened to know he'd done one of those monstrous cleaning jobs the previous weekend in anticipation of the Christmas holiday, but while Ray liked clean, he simply couldn't manage tidy. Clutter just accumulated around him. Books, CD's, newspapers, toys, tools, things Fraser couldn't even identify just piled up everywhere. But for the moment, everything had apparently acquired a place and was in it... and the open spaces thus created had Christmas decorations instead.

An arrangement of red candles, shiny gold balls and fir branches on the kitchen counter, flickering merrily and filling the air with the scent of barberry. A poinsettia in red foil paper on the coffee table. Wooden snowmen on the TV. Three stockings, one with a silver badge, the second a dog's outline and the third with a red maple leaf, were hanging from the edge of one of the bookshelves. An arrangement of nutcracker soldiers stood guard on the window ledge. The tree was set up in its stand and had lights and garland, but no ornaments. The open ornament box sat beside it, waiting.

Ray grinned as Diefenbaker came trotting out of the kitchen waving his tail in welcome. The wolf's blood-splotched fur was snowy white again and a festive red bow adorned his neck.

"She got to you too, huh, Dief?" Ray teased, hanging his coat up for a change. "Ya look great."

The wolf yipped, sat down and looked positively smug in his Christmas attire.

As Ray started towards Dief he stopped short and sniffed the air. "No way," he said suddenly. "There is no freakin' way she'd know about that..." He dumped the remainder of his stuff on the floor by the doorway and bolted for the kitchen.

Bemused, Fraser hung up his coat, lined his and Ray's boots up neatly and draped their hats, scarves and gloves over the radiator to dry.

"I take it our guest has recovered?"

The wolf rumbled a low vocalization, even more smugly self-satisfied, and licked his cheek as Fraser knelt down and stroked the wolf's clean fur. Dief smelled of Ray's organic shampoo and Fraser lifted an eyebrow as the wolf's words penetrated.

"You took a bath with a woman you just met? Diefenbaker! That's highly inappropriate!"

Dief shook himself and whined, protesting he'd been asked, after all. Hadn't his alpha wanted him to attend to the injured female long-life? She'd been flatly unwilling to bathe alone, but both girl and wolf had been soaked in her heart's blood. He'd thought bathing together quite a good solution to the problem.

Fraser absorbed that. "Very well, in that case I suppose it's allowable. If it was her request." He suppressed a violent shudder, he hadn't mentioned it to Ray or their still-anonymous guest, but watching her die in his arms earlier shook him to the depths of his soul. Her unbelievable recovery was a Christmas miracle, pure and simple, but he was roiling inside from the horror of watching her life run out in a spreading pool of blood as he held her helplessly.

Dear Lord, her blood stained the knees of his uniform, although the red stains were black on the dark blue fabric, and easily mistaken for snow or mud stains. At least two hours of digging and scrabbling in the thigh-deep snow cleaned the blood from his boots. Still, he wanted a shower in the worst way. The coppery scent of her blood floated around him, a sharp and poignant reminder of what happened earlier. Fraser reached into his pocket and pulled out his bloodstained handkerchief. Wrapped in its folds, spent slugs clotted with blood clicked against each other as he counted them. There were six in all. She'd taken six hollow point slugs from that big-bore revolver at point-blank range. For him. Pressed up against his chest, he'd felt the shock run through her body as each slug penetrated. He shuddered violently, unable to suppress this reaction.

She'd died in his arms. Died. He'd felt the last flutter of her heartbeat against his hand. It violated him in an utterly obscene way knowing she'd died for him... and now she was in the next room talking shyly with Ray. Fraser sank down on the couch and buried his head in his hands.

"Diefenbaker, what's going on?"

"She's not a ghost, son. And you need to get a grip on yourself."

Fraser looked up to see his father standing over him, with what passed for his sympathetic expression on. "I suppose you'd know."

"About the likes of her? Not a clue, son. But I do know ghosts, and she's not one. She's as alive as you."

"Dad, she died in my arms not four hours ago. How can she be alive?"

"How could she cough up six bullets? How should I know? Why don't you ask her?"

"That seems ungrateful, given she just saved my life."

"Manners? You're worried about manners now?"

"Yes. I'm not going to bully her. I owe her my life."

"Is that what you think about when you look at a beautiful, brave woman, son? A debt to be paid?"

"Don't start the grandchildren speech again, Dad. You're dead."

"Must you keep bringing that up?"

"Only when you forget it. Excuse me."

* * *

When Ray came careening around the corner into the kitchen nook their Christmas waif nearly jumped through the wall. Her green eyes were huge and wary as she poised to leap, nervous as a wild animal caught in a trap. Ray skidded to an immediate stop; his expression so apologetic she relaxed a trifle, despite being plastered up against the back kitchen wall like she expected to fight her way out of the apartment at any second.

"Sorry," Ray said sheepishly, then grinned as he took in her clothing. She was wearing his favorite sweatpants; a worn muscle shirt from Devlin's Gym, and a pair of Fraser's thick wool socks. It all fitted her small frame oddly well, and to his surprise Ray really, really liked seeing their Christmas miracle snuggled up warm and cozy in his and Frase's clothes. Weird, but it made up -a little- for the hideous trauma of seeing her dying in Fraser's arms, his partner awash in horror and guilt as the life drained out of her in a red flood.

Ray stopped and rubbed an arm across his face. That image was burned too vividly in his memory and part of him was still reeling from the heartbreak of her death.

"Are you all right?" she asked hesitantly, taking one cautious step his way.

"Yeah," Ray said with a quick, self-deprecating grin. Christ, she was worried about him? Unbelievable. "Just... bad flashback to earlier, ya know?"

She shivered, paled and wrapped her arms around herself. "Yeah. If you think it looks bad..." She shuddered hard and didn't finish.

"Yeah." Ray rubbed the back of his head. He'd really like to go over and hold her, but she was too jumpy for that by a long shot. "About that. Don't think I said thanks yet, so... thanks. Really. Losing Fraser... he's my partner, ya know? Wouldn'ta been good... couldn't get any worse, I guess. Like... fer the wolf and me, there'd be no reason ta go on livin' without the big lug. So thanks... fer saving him. I owe you. Anything you ever need, anything I can do -anything- you got it. No questions, no limits. Just ask. I mean it."

She shrugged shyly. "Just don't ask how I did it and we'll call it even. And thanks for letting me stay. Being stranded alone in a strange city for Christmas pretty much sucks."

Ray recalled his host duties with a jerk. "Least I can do. We can do. You OK? Need anything? Looks like you found clothes all right."

She blushed and turned back to the stove where two large pots were simmering, picked up a wooden spoon and stirred automatically. "Yeah, Diefenbaker said you wouldn't mind me borrowing... mine were all..." She stopped.

Remembering the bloody holes ripped into her flesh made Ray flinch thinking about what her clothes must have been like. "No sweat. Glad ya found something that fits." Remembering why he came barreling in here, he tried to crane his neck to see into the pots without advancing any closer. "Do I smell lobster stew?" he asked plaintively.

"Yeah." She gave him a baffled grin. "Are you Ray?"

He jumped; realizing he'd never even told her his name. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm Ray."

"Your folks stopped by while you were gone." She stopped and threw him such a cockeyed grin Ray instinctively grinned back. "You know, dodging your parents' questions would've been a lot easier if I'd known what your names were. They were sorry to miss you but the roads were so getting bad they didn't want to wait. They said to tell you Merry Christmas and they'd call tomorrow, and your mom..." She looked puzzled. "I think she thinks... I'm, like... your girlfriend or something... or maybe the Mountie's girlfriend... she was so glad there was a girl here for Christmas... I tried to explain about my flight but I really couldn't tell her how we met so..." She floundered for words. "Your dad put up the tree and we decorated the whole place while she kept trying to feed me," she finally said helplessly, and gestured down at the pot of lobster stew. "She brought this pot of lobster chowder and said it was for dinner... and you should see your fridge. There's enough food in there for the Seventh Fleet."

Ray grinned. "Lobster stew's traditional on Christmas Eve in the Kowalski family." He walked over to the stove slowly and she didn't seemed inclined to bolt, so he reached out and took the ladle from her hand and sampled the simmering stew. "No one makes it like Ma. What's in the other pot?"

"Eggnog. Your Dad made that." Her brows knitted. "I think he was almost more glad to see me than your Mom was."

Ray snickered, genuinely amused for once. His relationship with his father was plenty rough and still had more than a few no-man's-land zones, but this always tickled him.

"He's afraid I'm switch-hittin' with the Mountie," Ray confided wryly, reaching down three oversized mugs and hunting for cinnamon and nutmeg in the spice rack. "Which is ridiculous because the guy's so straight he can't even lie. Funny thing is, I'd tell Dad we weren't if he'd ask, but he's too afraid, so I'm lettin' him hang himself fer a while. I'll bet he was glad to see you no matter who you were here with. Thanks, that'll take the pressure offa me for a while."

"Not OK with it, is he?" Her expression was surprisingly sympathetic.

"Nope. If we're bein' truthful, I don't much care either way, ya know?" He grinned a little sheepishly. "I ken play both sides of th' plate, ain't what's on the outside that matters in love. But playin' fer that team pretty much guarantees no grandkids, ya see, and Dad wants a lotta little Kowalskis runnin' around to spoil rotten. My brother an' his wife already have two, and she's made it clear two's her limit."

"Too bad. You and the Mountie make a cute couple. He got a name too?"

"Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. At your service, miss."

She leaped sideways, gasping, and ended up plastered against the wall again; her eyes so wildly startled Ray flinched at the stark terror there.

"Hey, it's OK," he said, reaching out cautiously and just barely touching her elbow. "Nobody here's gonna hurt you." To his great relief, she didn't flinch when he touched her.

"I'm sorry, I'm not used to... that's only ever happened to me once before... I..." She gave up in defeat as Dief shouldered his way past Fraser and trotted over, whining unhappily as he nudged her hand. She slid down the wall like her legs couldn't hold her anymore and put her arms around the wolf's neck, leaning her forehead against Dief's. "Damn, I've had a really bad day."

"I'm sorry for having startled you," Fraser said apologetically, standing in perfect Mountie at-ease mode, guiltily realizing she was still terribly wary around them. "I'm afraid you have us at a disadvantage."

She was baffled. "I do? I'm sorry. What did I do?"

Too tired for politesse, Fraser realized, and rephrased the question. "No apologies are necessary. Might I ask your name, miss?"

"My name?"

"Yes. You mentioned you weren't carrying any ID and we've never formally introduced ourselves."

"Oh, right." She rubbed her temple tiredly. "Sorry, bein' dead really rattles my brains for a few hours."

Both Ray and Fraser blanched and swapped a swift, sick glance that she didn't notice as she struggled to collect her thoughts.

"Yeah, my ID got swiped with the rest of my stuff... oh no!" Her eyes filled with tears for the first time as something hit her. "My packages," she whispered brokenly, burying her face in Dief's fur. "From Liu and Johnny... no..."

Ray suddenly felt a whole lot better. "Yer FedEx boxes? They're in the trunk of my car. We'll go get 'em right now if it'll make ya feel better." He knelt down beside her and put a cautious hand on her shoulder. "Don't cry. We'll put 'em under the tree and ya can open 'em tomorrow. Hell, ya can open 'em right now if ya stop cryin'. You're breakin' my heart here."

She lifted up her head and showed Fraser and Ray eyes that turned the blue-green of the sea when they swam with tears. "They're here?"

Fraser knelt down beside Ray and offered her his spare handkerchief. "Yes. I'll go get them immediately. It was thoughtless of us not to mention it earlier."

The wry grin she threw Fraser was steadying as her sense of humor reasserted itself. "Been a bad day for everyone, Constable. I won't blame you if you won't blame you either."

Surprised by the playful joke, both men let out identical chuckles.

"She's got ya pegged already, Fraser," Ray teased, and they each put a hand under her elbows and lifted her gently to her feet.

"My name's Mina," she said, smiling at the two men standing over her.

Fraser held out his hand and she took it, his broad palm swallowing up her small tan fingers. "Pleased to meet you, Mina. This is my partner, Detective Ray Vecchio of the Chicago Police Department." He noticed her omission of a surname but forbore to comment, or she might start apologizing again. She was not a suspect by any interpretation; they had no right to intrude on her privacy if she was wary. And she certainly was... after what had happened, Fraser could hardly blame her.

"So I'm in the hands of the law? Is that safe in this city?"

Ray took her other hand and lifted it to his lips, brushing them over her knuckles. "Mina, anyone in this city so much as looks at you funny I'll kick 'em in the head. And then I'll shoot 'em."

"Ray means it," Fraser assured her. "I've seen him do it." He sobered. "You're safe here," he told her with that eerily sincere honesty. "You're our guest, and Ray and I will not let anyone hurt you."

Dief growled, irritated.

"And Diefenbaker, of course. Excuse me, Diefenbaker."

Dief sniffed disdainfully and pointedly nuzzled Mina's thigh until her hand came down to brush over his ears. Fraser was unreasonably annoyed it was his hand she released to pet the wolf.

"That's an awfully sweeping promise, Constable," Mina commented, studying him with disquieting perceptiveness.

"I never lie," Fraser told her, holding her gaze with that barely buried intensity he did occasionally. She absorbed it, thoughtful.

"He means it," Ray assured her. "Now, Fraser, you're kind of a guest, you get the first shower." He deliberately didn't glance at Fraser's uniform pants.

Fraser caught his partner's cue instinctively. "Kind of a guest, Ray?"

"Hell, yer here so much ya oughta kick in on rent. But ya get the hot water first, so move yer Mountie tail and hit the car. I'll entertain our guest until you're done, then you get ta be host."

Fraser nodded shortly. "Understood. Excuse me, Ray, Mina." He pulled on his pea coat and boots and disappeared out the front door.

Ray sampled the eggnog and nearly writhed in delight. It was perfect- the old man hadn't lost his touch. The extra vanilla this year was a new twist that appealed to his sweet tooth.

"Dief, take Mina in an' start on the ornaments. I'll do the eggnog."

Dief yelped and tugged on Mina's hand, pulling her toward the living room. She laughed and let him.

Ray waited until she was out of sight and spun around, yanking the fridge door open.

"Yes, Moms rule!"

Mina hadn't exaggerated. The fridge was so jammed stuff was stacked two and three containers deep. Mom was crazy organized, she'd have left directions somewhere... like right on the counter. D'oh.

Sure enough, in his mom's looping handwriting was a precise inventory of what she'd brought and a set of directions on when and how to cook it. At the very end was a short note penned in different ink.

Dear Stanley,

Your young lady friend is darling! Don't worry, dear, she is quite shy and won't be pressed into saying which of you she's seeing. You father thinks she's charming and mutters he hopes it's you interested in her and not the Mountie. But never mind him, you know how he is, gruff old bear. Merry Christmas to you and dear Benton and that sweet Marina. We'll call you tomorrow if the phones are back on but if not you know we're thinking of you!

Love, Mother

"It's 'Marina', huh?" Ray said out loud. "Way to go, Mom. You shoulda been the detective." He pulled out a large rectangular basket labeled 'Christmas Eve snacks' and popped the elasticized blue plastic cover off. "Yes, Mom! You rock, you rule, you are the best mom ever!" He lifted out the ceramic dish, popped it in the microwave just as directed and three minutes later he had culinary bliss. With eggnog on the side. Where the heck was the open rum bottle? Forget it, he'd use the new bottle he picked up at the liquor store together with the beer. Ray upended the entire rum bottle into the pot of eggnog; Dad had made almost two gallons of the stuff!

A quick stir later and he turned the heat off and ladled two mugs full, sprinkled a dusting of cinnamon and nutmeg on the surface and carried them out into the living room. Marina was sitting in the wing chair, unwrapping ornaments curiously.

"These are great, Ray. They're all different. Where'd they come from?"

Ray handed her a mug but didn't sit down, his clothes were soaked and his couch was clean. "Those? My crazy old uncle Nicola Kowalski -Uncle Nicky, we called him- he was a first mate on cargo ships for thirty years. He'd mail me a couple every year from some crazy corner of the world you never heard of." He shrugged, sheepish. "Usually with a letter written on banana leaves or rice paper or some crazy thing with some even crazier story about how he got it. Stella useta rag me about it. Said who knew how much of it was true... if any of it was."

Marina smiled. "Inject truth into a seaman's yarn? Bite your tongue, ye landlubber, them's fightin' words. This one's great." She held up a peacock ornament of stained and gilded bamboo that glittered with dozens of brilliant colors. "It's from India, right?"

Ray's grin was brilliant. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

She winked and hung the peacock on a bough. "That's for me to know..."

"And me to find out?" he kidded.

"You are a detective, after all."

"Who is blowing his host duties, jeez, don't tell Fraser or he'll lecture me on etiquette." Ray ducked back into the kitchen, plunked the hot ceramic dish back into the basket beside the cold one, and whisked the serving basket out to the coffee table.

"What are all these?" She picked up a round thing topped with cheese and bit into it experimentally. "Bacon and cheddar stuffed mushrooms. Force ten on the yummy scale. Your mom can cook."

Ray snickered and tossed one up, catching it neatly in his mouth. "You should see her when she's got a real kitchen to work with."

She dipped a cherry tomato into something green and white and tried it. "Roasted garlic and dill dip. Also yummy."

Ray picked a small crispy fried dough triangle and munched. "No idea what it is," he confessed. "But it's good."

Mina tried one experimentally. "Me neither. I think there's cream cheese in there somewhere. And maybe onion?"

Ray tried another. "That's oregano, right? And basil?"

"Italian seasoning would be my guess."

"Correct," Fraser said, closing the door behind him. Mina's smile as her eyes fixed on the two FedEx boxes in his hands was blinding. It made him feel amazingly better to see that grateful smile, that lively, happy and above all alive smile. It came to Fraser with peculiar clarity he would do nearly anything to see that smile stay on that odd, elfin, strangely compelling face.

"How would you know?" Ray demanded.

"I gave her the recipe. It's one of Constable Turnbull's favorites."

Ray snickered. "Figures. Give 'em here and go get clean and dry, buddy."

Fraser generally didn't care for anyone but him giving the orders; but given he was soaking wet, chilled to the bone and wanted the smell of Mina's blood off him in the worst possible way, he acquiesced without demur. Doffing his outerwear took only moments and crossing the room, he handed the two boxes to Mina.

"Excuse me," he said politely, and disappeared into Ray's bedroom as Mina tore open the first box and slid out not one but several gaily-wrapped packages, one large and two small, and a shower of multi-colored Ghiradelli chocolate bon-bons.

She laughed in delight. "This has to be from Johnny. He was the only one of us to make it to New York. He knows Ghiradelli's are my favorites." She checked the tags and grinned, picking up a handful of the candies scattered over her lap. "Yup! Bon-bon?"

Ray took one and unwrapped it, popping the sweet into his mouth in an explosion of chocolate and hazelnut. "Ya wanna open 'em now?"

She shook her head. "No. We always open one present on Christmas Eve and the rest Christmas morning."

"I'll put 'em under the tree." Ray arranged them under the pine tree and remembered he wanted to ask her a question. "Anyone you wanna call and let 'em know yer all right? Yer family or somethin'?"

"I don't have any family, Ray," she explained, tearing open the second box but letting it sit in her lap as she talked. "Just my teammates. I talked to Johnny and Liu this morning -so they could send me some money after my stuff got stolen- and they aren't expecting to hear from me again until tomorrow."

"No family? None at all?" Ray didn't think he could possibly feel any sorrier for the weary, stranded, recently dead woman sitting in his living room, but he'd been wrong.

"Nope. Johnny and I were raised in the same orphanage. According to the nuns, we were inseparable even before we could walk. We lit out at sixteen and went it alone. Once we were eighteen and could get legal passports, we went to China and that's where we met Liu. The three of us have been inseparable ever since."

Ray was plain old fascinated. "What were ya doin' in China?"

"Studying."

"Studyin' what?" Then Fraser's description of the tricks she'd pulled on the perps clicked in his head. "Never mind, ya were studyin' martial arts, right?"

She nodded. "There wasn't much to do at our orphanage, but we had a real-live Mr. Miyagi for a gardener. He saw Johnny and I had the knack for it and trained us. We were the equivalent of black belts at ten. At sixteen we were... scary. Once our first sensei told us there was nothing more he could teach us, we went looking for more teachers. That's how we eventually ended up in China. Liu's grandfather was the senior monk at the temple we studied at."

"That's wild. So whadda ya do now?"

"We work the international tournament circuit as an exhibition team and occasionally hire out as private security. We do OK; get to do a lot of traveling, which we all love, and we're together. That's what's important to us."

"So what were ya doin' so far from yer buddies?"

"We got an offer to do a movie deal, a Hong Kong action flick. One of us had to fly there to negotiate. And when it comes to business, that's my bailiwick. The boys are happy to stay out of it." She smiled fondly and set the box down beside her, drawing up her knees and resting her chin on them as she talked. "No head for business, either of 'em. But I love them, and they love me. I'd show you a picture if I still had my wallet."

"So you were headed back to 'em?"

"Yup. Since we had to split up, Liu went to China to visit his grandfather and Johnny took a bodyguard job in London. We were all supposed to meet up in New York for Christmas. Johnny was the only one who made it. I ended up here and Liu got rerouted to Atlanta. He's catching a train, but I'm out of luck until the storm quits."

"Major drag. Sorry yer Christmas got so fuc... screwed."

"Shit happens," she said bluntly, her eyes twinkling. "The Mountie's really got you whipped, huh?"

Ray roared. Just sat down on the floor and roared with laughter. Damn, she was perceptive. "You have no idea," he choked out. "He's got no idea, thank fucking Christ, or he'd have me wrapped around that perfect pinky more'n he already does. Cripes, I use words like 'germane' and 'malfeasant' these days."

"And you don't swear."

"Not in front of girls, anyway. Perps, they still get the ol' one-two punch and a fast kick inna head."

"Gotcha."

Ray realized he'd killed his entire mug of eggnog and so had she. "Want another one?"

She held out her mug. "Please."

While Ray ducked back into the kitchen she emptied out the FedEx box. This one had two large presents, both wrapped in the delicate oriental paper she loved... and a Christmas stocking. A beautiful one. All lovely blue silk and feathery embroidery, with the sinuous Four Dragons of the Elements rippling down the stocking. Liu would have known just looking at it she would adore it. Mina's eyes filled with tears as she held it to her cheek.

Ray came back in with more eggnog and found her like that. To her surprise he didn't seem upset at her tears, just set the mugs down on the coffee table and sat down on the arm of the wing chair, putting an arm around her shoulders comfortingly.

"First Christmas ya ever spent away from 'em, huh?"

She nodded, sniffling. "I've never spent a Christmas away from Johnny in my whole life. We always loved it. Even that first year on our own, when we spent Christmas sleeping on a beach in Mexico and eating tamales from a street vendor... the first Christmas we spent with Liu at the temple it took us weeks just to explain what Christmas was really about when you strip all the religion and commercialism away... all my memories of Christmas are tied up in them."

She held up the stocking. "Liu got it for me. I love the tale of the Four Dragon Brothers; it's my favorite story. All Liu would have had to do was look at this to know I would love it... and it wouldn't matter how expensive it was, he'd get it for me. Because he'd know every time I looked at it, I'd remember how well he knows me, and how much he loves me."

"He sounds like a very special friend," Fraser said, walking out of the bedroom and offering her the box of tissues off Ray's bedside table.

She smiled and took one, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "He is. How long have you been listening?"

"Just a few minutes, while I was dressing." Fraser did look a lot more comfortable in jeans, a blue sweater and thick wool socks remarkably similar to the ones she was wearing.

"Ya wanna hang it up with the others?" Ray asked, gesturing at the three stockings hanging from the bookcase.

"Yes." She smiled. "Your Mom was awfully upset she didn't have a stocking for me. I think she felt like she was falling down on the job."

Ray handed Fraser his mug. "Drink this an' keep our guest company while I git cleaned up."

"Thank you kindly, Ray."

The eggnog smelled wonderful and while the hot shower had cleaned off the blood stench and warmed him on the outside, there was still a cold empty pit in his gut. Fraser drained off half the mug in a gulp and sat down on the couch, watching as Marina hung up her stocking beside the others. They were secured with four silver base hangers that spelled out 'Noel' and her stocking filled the fourth empty spot nicely.

Mina stood back and smiled, pleased. "That doesn't look so bad." She set the two packages under the tree and went back to hanging ornaments.

Fraser watched her for a few moments as she unwrapped another ornament and hung it up. She didn't seem as much inclined to talk as she had with Ray, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. And he was more than content to fill his eyes with the sight of her moving around Ray's apartment, smiling as she decorated the tree.

"Want to hang up a few?" she asked, turning around and holding an ornament out.

"I'm enjoying watching you," Fraser said, surprising himself with his answer.

She laughed. "I can't imagine why." She looked down at Ray's sweats and worn t-shirt and put a hand up to the black exhaustion smudges under her eyes. "Trust me, I've looked better."

It was too much. The image of kneeling in a pool of her blood, with her dying in his arms, reached up and grabbed Fraser by the throat. A wave of overwhelming guilt and horror smashed through his defenses and to his horrified dismay a sob ripped its way out of his throat. Dief whined and nudged his arm as he set the mug down on the coffee table and buried his face in his hands. Struggling for control, Fraser wasn't prepared for two small but strong hands to wrap around his wrists and tug them gently away from his face.

Mina was kneeling in front of him; her eyes filled with compassion as she pulled his arms around her waist and cradled his head against her shoulder. Fraser resisted briefly, he had no right to load this on her after everything she'd already gone through today, but she was immovable.

"It's all right," she murmured, cradling him close, one hand stroking his hair reassuringly. "You have to let it out."

Fraser couldn't fight it anymore and the river of grief that poured out was overwhelming as his arms locked around her waist in an iron grip. She stayed steady as a rock under the rush, murmuring soft reassurances in his ear as sobs ripped out of him, tearing his throat. His ear was pressed over her heart; and Fraser was never so glad in his life to hear a steady heartbeat, as he was to feel hers right now. Anguish, horror and guilt for having failed her so badly had been eating away at him like acid all afternoon, and the logical part of his mind was appalled at how terribly he'd been grieving for the strange waif now holding him tight.

But she'd been so lovely, all the more so for being so weary and tired; and he'd wanted to guard and help her from the instant he'd seen her body sway with exhaustion waiting in line. He'd imprinted on protecting her like he'd been Diefenbaker. Then to feel that amazing connection with her as they fought together, so like the one he felt with Ray, and to see it so brutally severed, so quickly, was shattering. She laid down her life for him in a heartbeat, without even thinking about it. Ray would have done that, but precious few others.

The bond between them formed too fast to push her away, to put up the walls he used to keep people from getting too close. She'd slipped right past all his defenses and taken up residence in his heart before either knew what was happening. Fraser had absolutely no idea what to do about her, or about the fact she was now part and parcel of his heart. And she was, whether she knew it or not. Fraser wondered dazedly if Ray's staunch belief in love at first sight was finally coming true for him. He loved her, mad and crazy as that was, and he was in too fragile a state right now to lie to himself about it. He wasn't sure he would have wanted to anyway.

But no one could sustain that level of grief for long and the brutal sobs lessened, the harsh breaths eased, and still she held him close. As the fog of grief lifted from his mind, Fraser realized she wasn't afraid, or repulsed, only wanted to soothe his anguish. She had known what he needed, instinctively, and given it. Willingly. She'd wanted to. If he hadn't loved her before that realization, he surely would have now. Lifting his head required a surprising level of courage, as he'd have much rather stayed hidden in her arms. Dear Lord, how he wanted to stay there.

And, oh, how kind and warm those green eyes were. They undid him all over again. Mina set her forehead against his and smiled. What a curiously intimate gesture.

"Better?" she asked.

He nodded, still unsure what to say. Nothing, apparently. She didn't require an explanation, or an apology, or anything. Just to know he wasn't hurting because of her.

"That's enough of that, son," his father said sharply, standing in the middle of Ray's living room frowning down at him. "It doesn't solve anything."

And both men got the shock of a lifetime when Marina turned around and fired a laser-beam glare straight at Fraser Senior that would have peeled paint off a wall at a hundred yards.

"Who asked you, asshole?" she snarled, rising to her feet, fists clenched and mad as hell. She planted herself square in front of Fraser and faced off against his father fearlessly.

His father's jaw dropped. "You can see me?" he choked out.

"Damn right I can see you, ghost," she spat. "And I don't recall anyone inviting you to this party. Especially if all you're going to do is take cheap shots at people who are hurting."

"How can you see him?" Fraser choked out. "Oh, god, father, not again! Tell me she's not my sister!"

"I don't know who my father was but it sure as shit wasn't this jerk," Marina snarled, her temper boiling. "A whole facet of martial arts training revolves around learning to see with the Third Eye, and I'm very good at it. And just so you know the score, ghost-boy, not only can I see you, I can hurt you if I really try. So are you gonna take a hike, or am I gonna kick your ass right back to the Ethereal Plane? 'Cause believe me, right now I'd like nothing better!" And she took a step closer, ready and willing to throw down on the spot.

Fraser jerked to his feet and hastily interposed himself between Mina and his father.

"Please, Mina, he's my father."

"That doesn't give him the right to treat you like dirt," she snarled, stepping around him and jabbing Fraser Senior in the chest, shoving him back. "Where the hell do you get off?"

The simple fact she could touch him was profoundly disturbing, but before Fraser Senior could fade away Mina reached out and grabbed the front of his red serge uniform, holding him fast.

"Oh no," she snarled, "You don't get to run away, coward. You started this, now you finish it. Is that the best you can do for your son when he's torn apart? Beat him down more? What kind of father are you?"

All the fight ran out of his father with that question. "Not a very good one," he said wearily.

"Yeah well, no shit. I got that. What the hell's your problem?"

"I... don't know. I didn't know any other way to be when I was alive, and I don't know now."

Fraser stepped between them again. "Please, Mina, let him go."

Marina shot him a sharply assessing look and shoved his father away. "Only because it's you asking," she replied angrily, and glared at Fraser Senior. "Next time you pull that crap in front of me, dirtbag, we go, and believe you me I will hand you your ass."

"Maybe you better go, Dad," Fraser interceded. "We'll talk later."

"Don't know why you'd want to," Mina muttered, folding her arms across her chest and throwing another smoking glare at Fraser Senior. "If that's what fatherhood's like, I'm glad I never had one."

Fraser Senior just shot her an entirely unsettled glance and was gone.

"So that's your father," Marina said, her temper visibly cooling.

"Er, yes," Fraser said uncomfortably. All right, so a well-trained martial artist could see ghosts... he didn't remember ever reading that before, definitely new information. He'd remember it for next time.

"I don't like him," she declared. "And I like the way he treats you even less."

He ran a finger over his eyebrow. "I noticed that."

Closing her eyes, Marina took two deep, controlled breaths, and to Fraser's surprise, he watched her exhale the rest of her anger, leaving her calm and centered. Perhaps he ought to try martial arts training. It seemed to provide a healthier form of emotional control than Mountie stoicism.

Mina opened her eyes and regarded him levelly. "I'm not going to apologize. He had that coming."

To his shock, Fraser found himself secretly agreeing with her. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"No one's ever stood up to my father for me before. Not in my whole life."

"I'd say it's long overdue, then." She reached out and took his hands. "Are you all right?"

Fraser took a long look inside his heart and found, to his surprise, he was. "Yes. Thanks to you."

She cocked her head and smiled. "Good. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What do your friends call you?"

Not the question he'd been expecting. "I suppose that depends on the friend."

"There something you wouldn't mind me calling you?"

Fraser blushed and looked down at his feet. "My mother used to call me Ben... I'd like it if you'd call me that."

"OK, Ben." She released one hand but tugged gently on the other. "C'mon, let's finish the tree." Reaching out, she brushed a last tear from his cheek. "But maybe we should wash your face first." Fraser had to admit she was right and let her lead him back into the kitchen.

"Very well, Mina."

She waited patiently, sitting on the counter and swinging her legs while he washed his face in Ray's sink, handed him a clean towel. Dief sat at her feet, just as patiently keeping them company.

Fraser caught the click of the shower turning off and realized he needed to ask yet something else of her.

"Mina?"

"Yes, Ben?"

"Could I ask you to please... er, would you mind not mentioning..."

"Would I keep my mouth shut about your father's ghost haunting you?"

"Er, well, yes, that was it, actually."

"No problem." She shrugged. "Admitting I can see ghosts isn't something I do on a regular basis anyway. Makes people look at you funny."

"Believe me, I know what you mean," Fraser blurted out.

She chuckled. "I bet you do at that. I take it Ray doesn't know?"

"No. The only other people who know are my sister, Maggie, and my father's old partner, Sergeant Frobisher."

Dief growled, annoyed.

"And Diefenbaker, of course."

She shrugged. "Your secret's safe with me. Not like it's any of my business, anyway. Just do me a favor back and don't let him walk all over you like that? It's... wrong."

Fraser ran a finger over his eyebrow, unable to express adequately his ambivalent feelings about his father. "Understood."

Her expression said worlds, but Fraser was infinitely grateful she didn't press the matter further.

She sighed and hopped off the counter. "This sure is turning out to be a weird Christmas."

"Agreed."

"Do you always go monosyllabic when you're under emotional stress?"

"I never thought about it, but now that you mention it, yes, I do."

"Have some more eggnog. It'll help. Ray's father put enough vanilla vodka in there to tranquilize an elephant."

"I don't drink."

"You do today."

"As you wish." Fraser shot her a curious glance. "You seem quite calm, suddenly."

"I decided I can trust you three."

That was surprising. "Might I inquire as to why?"

A twisted grin slid over her face. "It's the ambient weirdity quotient hanging around you, Ray and Dief. Your wolf talks and your father's a ghost. Anyone who has stuff happen to them as weird as the stuff that happens to me, Liu and Johnny is worth trusting."

Fraser didn't even try to follow the logic of that as he followed her back into the living room. He suspected it might be female logic akin to Frannie's, which was best left strictly alone.

Ray came bouncing out of the bedroom a few minutes later, looking particularly handsome in jeans and a green sweater, shaved and his blond hair freshly spiked. Fraser could tell he'd made a special effort for their guest. Not surprising, given Ray's intense attraction for all things female. Fraser was grateful Ray's occasional jealous streak hadn't reared its ugly head; he simply didn't have the emotional stability to deal with that after everything else that had happened today.

Something caught Ray's attention as he came into the living room, another one of his mother's Christmas decorations. He wondered if had been on her original decoration list or added after her discovery of Marina in his apartment.

"Mistletoe," Ray said with a chuckle, swatting the green sprig and setting the little silver bells dangling from the red ribbons jingling as he walked underneath it. "Mom strikes again."

"Bad luck not to use it," Mina teased from over by the Christmas tree. She'd nearly finished hanging the ornaments and Ray blinked. They were arranged as carefully as one of those Japanese meditation gardens, the colors and shapes balanced against the form of the tree and the pattern of the colored lights. It was... gorgeous.

"Nobody under it with me," Ray pulled a mournful face as he walked over to the VCR. "You two ready fer Rudolph and the Grinch?"

"Absolutely! But you need to work on your timing, Ray. Timing's everything, you know." Mina put a hand into the ornament box and looked a little disappointed when her fingers encountered nothing but tissue paper, then brightened when she found one last tissue-wrapped lump in a corner of the box. She pulled it out and unwrapped it, smiling at the silver star with a tiny Grinch, Max and Cindy Lou Who on the base. She stretched for the top of the tree, but it was wide enough she couldn't quite reach the top branch.

"Guys, I need someone to put the star on top, I'm not tall enough."

Ray looked up from messing with the VCR. "You do it, Frase, you dig all these Christmas traditions."

"It's your tree and your star, Ray," Fraser objected. "You should do it."

Marina rolled her eyes. "Ye gods, and I thought Liu and Johnny were bad with the passive-aggressive bit. Never mind, I'll stand on a chair."

Both men looked flatly rebellious. "Fergit chairs," Ray grumbled, climbing to his feet. "Git yer Mountie butt over here, Frase."

"Yes, Ray."

Ray stationed himself on Marina's left side and put his hands around her waist. "Grab the other side, buddy."

Fraser caught the idea immediately and settled his hands over his partner's. "On three?"

"One, two, three," and they lifted together. To their surprise, Marina gave a little jump to help and floated up without effort, balanced steady as a rock in their hands as they lifted her. She set the star on the top branch and pushed down a little to secure it, and took her hands away. It stayed in place, and she smiled and patted the arms holding her.

"Down, please."

Ray's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Not here." He jerked his head at the mistletoe hanging in the doorway. "Over there."

"Ray," Fraser said reproachfully.

"Ya ken let go if you don't want Christmas kisses, pal, but I do."

Given how hard Mina was giggling, she wasn't too upset at the idea, and Fraser realized he would very much like a Christmas kiss.

"As you wish, Ray." And they carried her over to the doorway and set her down under the mistletoe. She wrapped an arm around each of their necks as they lowered her and tugged their heads down to her level.

"Merry Christmas, Ray," she said and pressed a kiss on first Ray's cheek, then Fraser's. "Merry Christmas, Ben." They both grinned and blushed.

Ray decided to take advantage of the situation and kissed her cheek back, eliciting another happy laugh. Fraser wanted to hear that laugh again so much he was leaning down to kiss her cheek before he even realized what he was doing. To his delight she laughed harder and the arms around their necks tightened in a brief hug before she let go.

"Gotta find a way to do that again," she teased.

"I suspect all you'd have to do is ask," Fraser pointed out.

She wrinkled up her nose. "No fun that way."

"Sez you," Ray mock-grumbled, zipping into the kitchen for a third mug of eggnog, and not-incidentally refilling Marina's and Fraser's at the same time. Frankly, he thought they could all use a few drinks. He'd skip telling Fraser about the rum in the eggnog, Frase didn't drink as a rule but his partner damn well needed a good stiff belt right now. It had been one hell of a day and they all badly needed to unwind. A few drinks, his mom's munchies and Christmas vids should do the trick nicely. He'd even sneak Diefenbaker a few treats when Fraser wasn't looking, and he kinda thought Mina would be doing the same. After all, the wolf had earned them convincing Marina to come with them, even if Frase might not agree.

Ray came back out holding all three mugs and plopped down on the opposite end of the couch from Fraser, grabbing the remote after he handed an eggnog to Frase and set Marina's on the coffee table. The ceramic dishes in the serving basket were doing a darn good job of keeping the hot stuff hot and the cold stuff cold, and he popped another stuffed mushroom in his mouth.

"Ready, Mina?"

Marina finished tossing the rest of the tissue paper used to wrap the ornaments in the box, folded the flaps neatly and set the box out of the way.

"I'm done." She padded over to the couch and curled up in the middle, tucking her feet under her. Dief laid his chin on her knee and whined plaintively as she picked up another pastry triangle and she fed it to him without hesitation, taking a second for herself.

Ray grinned as he watched Fraser bite down on a request not to feed the wolf, and curious to see how far it extended, he plunked a slice of cheddar on a cracker and fed it to Dief himself. The disgusted look Fraser shot him was worth the undoubted grief he'd take for this later.

"Is Dief allowed on the furniture?" Mina asked.

The look on her face was sure was funky, Ray thought. She was asking to be polite, but the idea of not letting Dief up with them was obviously repugnant. What the heck, she plainly wanted the wolf in her lap, and hell, it was his furniture, wasn't it? If he didn't care, Frase could stifle the manners thing for once.

"Sure." Ray grinned at the wolf. "C'mon, Dief, we'll squish fer ya."

The thousand-kilowatt smile Ray got for that stunned him briefly silent, and to his delight, Dief hopped up between Fraser and Mina. Mina slid over to give the wolf room, and Dief turned around once and curled up with his head in Mina's lap. Ray put his arm up on the back of the couch to give her a little more space. With all of them on the couch, it was a little crowded, but it was cozy and Ray sure didn't object when Mina rested her head on his shoulder.

Marina stretched for her mug with one hand and began stroking Dief's ears with the other, and it was hard to say who was more content, girl or wolf. Ray looked over her head, catching Fraser's eye as he hit play and the Whos' theme song began. His partner met his gaze and to his surprise, Fraser smiled a little shyly back and rested his arm on the back of the couch, laying his hand next to Ray's. Suspecting Fraser might have overheard a little more of his and Mina's conversation than he'd let on, Ray twined his fingers through Fraser's, gave them a friendly squeeze and left them there.

Fraser squeezed back and to Ray's further delight, left their fingers intertwined. Holding hands with his partner would undoubtedly have garnered one hell of a comment from Dewey, but who cared what that jerk thought anyway? There was one snag. He couldn't reach the munchies with his free hand holding Fraser's. What the hell, Frase was nicer than food any day. But it turned out he didn't have to, Marina reached out for another cheese and cracker, fed Dief one, and held up a second inquiringly in front of Ray. He nodded and she popped it into his mouth neatly, as if she did this all the time. Then again, from her description of her teammates, she might.

Ray could just hear Fraser chuckling silently. A beautiful woman feeding him? If that wasn't Ray's idea of heaven, it was pretty darn close. Heck, Fraser wasn't that far off. Bizarre and strange as this day was, right now Ray was about as happy as he'd been in a long, long time. This might turn out be the best Christmas he'd had since Stella pitched him out on his ear. His first Christmas with Fraser, last year, had been sullied by the mess with Warfield and the brutal beating his partner had taken, even though it had eventually turned out all right. Ray still carried a burden of guilt for that, always would, even if Fraser had been over the line on several things about that incident.

"What is it?" Marina asked, looking up at him curiously.

Jerked back to the present, Ray met her gaze. "What's what?"

"You're thinking about something that's upsetting you."

Both he and Fraser swapped incredulous glances.

"What, you readin' my mind?" Ray blurted out, a little unnerved.

"No. Your autonomic reflexes. My head is resting right over your heart and lungs. Your heart and breathing rates accelerated at the same time that sad look crossed your face."

"Oh." Figures a martial arts expert would know that, Ray realized. He hadn't answered her question. "Just a bad memory from last Christmas. Got nothin' to do with anythin' this one." Fraser's grip on his hand tightened, and Marina studied them both and let it drop. Damn, but she was perceptive. Wicked observant, too. It was like she noticed everything.

The narration picked up on the Grinch and they all settled back and listened. Ray had found out the year before Fraser hadn't seen any of the Christmas classics he'd grown on, and Ray had made a special point of picking them all up at the after-Christmas sales so he could introduce his partner to them this year. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, Frosty the Snowman, Year Without a Santa Claus, It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 42nd Street, he'd tracked down every one of the favorites he remembered from childhood and bought them all just for this. Making Christmas happy for Fraser had become a crusade for Ray, as sharp and necessary as tracking down Marcus Ellery had been once. Having Marina here was an unexpected -but entirely welcome- bonus.

The Grinch ran only a half hour, and they chuckled all the way through it, Mina and Ray occasionally reciting bits of narration together during their favorite parts, making Fraser chuckle. Marina fed Ray and Dief nibbles from his mom's munchies; and Ray picked up the pattern on the third repetition. Feed the wolf, feed Ray, only then eat a bite herself. Even funnier, she was obviously skipping feeding Fraser only because he was feeding himself. It was pretty darn cute, really. He envied her teammates having her around full-time.

When Ray got up to change the tape, Fraser refilled their eggnog mugs and brought out a second set of oversize mugs full of lobster stew, correctly assuming neither Ray nor their guest were interested in a more formal meal.

Marina went and looked out the window. Full darkness had fallen long since fallen and the falling snow glowed luminescent in the reflected city lights. Diefenbaker plunked his paws up on the window ledge and Mina put an arm around his neck as the wolf snuggled up. Ray and Fraser swapped amused glances and joined them, watching the snow coming down in thick heavy masses. The streets were two feet deep already and it was obvious the city plows were being rerouted to the main arteries only.

Marina reached a hand over her shoulder as they stood behind her and Ray and Fraser swapped baffled glances before reaching out hesitantly and taking her hand. A three-way handhold was strange to Ray and Fraser, but her fingers laced theirs together with a feather-light touch and to their surprise, her smaller hand fit into that joined grip just right. She rested her cheek on their joined hands and without even thinking about it, Ray and Fraser reached around her waist and clasped their free hands, encircling her in their arms.

Damn, holding her felt so good, Ray thought, so right, knowing his partner was thinking the exact same thing. Their own personal Christmas miracle, warm and safe in their arms, if they spent the rest of Christmas standing like this it would be enough. More than enough. The click of the VCR going on standby mode caught their attention, and Dief dropped to the floor and padded back to the couch. Mina gave their hands a final squeeze and Ray and Fraser stepped back reluctantly.

"What's next?" Marina asked, and it took Ray a moment to figure out she was asking what he'd put into the VCR.

"Rudolph."

She laughed a little as she settled next to Dief on the couch and the wolf crawled right back into her lap. "Fair warning, the end of that one always makes me cry. When all the misfits toys think they'd been abandoned for another year I get all sniffly."

"What, every time?" Ray asked, plunking down beside her and not being the least bit shy about reaching out for his mug of stew after he grabbed the remote and started the movie. Fuck, how her admission wrapped around his heart and squeezed. The damn movie did the same thing to him, not that Ray would ever admit it.

"Every time," Marina admitted. "I'm a sap."

"I would say a sentimentalist," Fraser disagreed.

"That does sound better," she told him, and to Fraser's surprise fed him a stuffed mushroom before picking up her mug of lobster stew. He ran a finger over his eyebrow in confusion before busying his hands with his own helping of the fragrant bisque.

"Didn't want you to feel left out," she said lightly.

Fraser sat back, thinking he ought to be embarrassed, but in truth he was flattered. Drinking the savory stew was a welcome distraction, the hot cream, rich lobster and sweet butter was very soothing to a stomach unused to alcohol and still off-balance from the traumatic events of the afternoon. The exotic flavors on his tongue only accented how strange, how wonderful this Christmas was turning out to be. How different this was from anything he'd ever known before... how much better, to be here with his best friend, his wolf companion, and this beautiful, strangely alluring woman. Marina.

In the midst of Fraser's confusion one thought rose to the surface. He wanted to kiss her. More than that, he wanted her. Oh, dear, where had that thought come from? It was so strong, too. Holding her, holding Ray, this warmth and closeness was awakening feelings in his heart that had been dormant since the disaster with Victoria. The occasional flashes of attraction he'd felt for Janet Morse, for Denny Scarpa, even for Inspector Thatcher, didn't come close to this sharp, urgent need. He wanted more. A picture sprang into his mind of Ray's bed, so close, so subtly welcoming... how would her slim body fit between Ray's lanky frame and his own bulkier one? She fit so well in their arms a moment ago...

Uncomfortable with the erotic implications of that thought but unable to divorce it from his thoughts, it was so compelling, Ray's hand reaching for his again pulled Fraser's attention around. Ray had finished his stew and apparently wanted to resume their handholding. That was... something of a surprise. Dear Lord, there was so much more he would like to do, to share with his partner. Their beautiful guest being one of them... Fraser never had these feelings before, but there was no denying he would very much like to hold Marina between himself and Ray and lose himself in their heat, their sweetness.

To his horrified embarrassment, as he met Ray's eyes Fraser realized his partner not only knew exactly what he was thinking, Ray was thinking the exact same thing. Their partner's connection all but sizzled with the heat of it, the fire it ignited in them both. Fraser went beet-red all the way to the tips of his ears, but Ray only chuckled and gave his hand a little shake, letting Fraser know it was all right. Well, it stood to reason Ray would be more comfortable with that thought than he was. Ray had always been perfectly comfortable with all aspects of human sexuality; it was emotional connections that snarled his partner up in ugly knots.

Marina smiling and roughing up Dief's ears yanked their attention back to her, and both Ray and Fraser realized they'd been exchanging what probably looked like lovesick smiles over her head. Ray went as beet-red as Fraser as the same thought sprang into their minds simultaneously. Mina had already proven unnervingly adept at reading their minds, what if she'd read that thought with the same uncanny accuracy? Ray slugged down another gulp of eggnog, resolutely not meeting anyone's gaze until his cheeks cooled, then remembered he'd spiked it pretty heavily, and all three of them were hitting it pretty hard.

Fraser refilled their mugs this last time, and Ray couldn't recall if he was on his third or fourth drink. What the hell, it wasn't like he was driving anywhere, and much as he'd love it, there wasn't much danger of things getting... intimate... with Fraser around; despite the fact his partner was as hungry for their lovely guest as he was. Kind of a surprise there, he wouldn't have thought Frase was up for that, but he'd read Fraser's thoughts like print a minute ago, and his ol' buddy Ben was as wound up and hungry as he was.

But Marina was their guest, under their protection, and they'd protect her even from themselves if it came to that. Fuck, but Ray wanted her though, and while it was a bit of a shock to his system, he really wanted Fraser, too. He hadn't had that sorta thought since his college days... self-defense, mostly. Couldn't afford to have a fellow cop unwilling to follow you into a nasty situation for something so prejudiced and dumb. And once he was married, he'd have cut off his own arm before he'd cheat on the Stella. Stanley Raymond Kowalski did not do that. Ever.

Kerrist on a fuckin' crutch, what a weird-ass Christmas this was turning out to be... he actually had the hots for his partner. Granted, wasn't like Frase wasn't hot as hell -it was impossible to get a date with him around- and while he didn't generally admit it, Ray had enjoyed playing for other team those few times when he and Stella had been on the outs during their on-again, off-again relationship while she'd been in law school. It wasn't like the idea was totally out of left field for him.

Marina's secretly amused smile when she'd caught them grinning like fools and holding hands sparked another thought. She was awfully easy with that whole trio dialectic -shit, Frase really had gotten under his skin, he was thinking words like 'dialectic'- suspiciously comfortable and subconsciously used to having two men close to her. It made Ray wonder how close she and her two teammates were... what if this kind of closeness was second nature for her? It would explain a lot of things. And holy bleeding Jesus Christ, if that was true, she probably knew all kinds of ways to... get closer. Martial artists were so... limber. Flexible. Strong.

His brain practically fused solid, Ray yanked his attention back to the TV as his imagination went into hyperdrive, and he crossed his legs casually to hide it as his cock woke up and took pointed notice of the girl snuggled against his side. Aw, hell, he was only human. Ray couldn't hide a warped grin, and he snuck a sideways glance at Fraser. His pal always wore tighter jeans than he did, could he see...? Yup, damn, this was just plain funny. Fraser had a hard-on, a substantial one, too. It matched his.

Ray returned his attention to the movie, noting in surprise it was half over; he'd been lost in thought a lot longer than he'd realized. His thumb began stroking Fraser's hand and sneaking peeks with his peripheral vision, Ray watched his partner's eyes slide half-closed as he wallowed in the sensation. He was only tormenting them both, but Ray didn't care. It felt so good, even if he and Fraser were probably going to have the worst case of blue balls ever.

Even so, Ray wasn't prepared for Fraser's thumb to start returning that small caress. It was wonderful and when Marina offered him another cracker and cheese, he took it out of her fingers more slowly than before, laving her fingertips with the merest flick of his tongue. Fraser's fingers tightened on his, and Ray realized Fraser had been watching the whole thing... and was as turned on by it as he was. Fuck! His brain was melting, that was enough borderline-drunken thinking for now...

Marina leaned forward, her long hair falling in a curtain around her face, and Fraser noticed she didn't flick it back over her shoulders the way she'd been doing before. That long fall of blond hid most of her face, but from his vantage point Fraser caught a flash of a shy smile as she offered him another bite. Wondering how on earth Ray had managed to taste Mina before he had, Fraser mimicked Ray's little oral caress as she fed him, and that secret smile widened just a trifle as she settled back into the couch.

Fraser savored the cheese puff in his mouth, ferreting out the faint taste of Mina's skin from the sharp cheddar and savory pastry. Was this what flirtation was really about? Not being hammered with unwelcome advances, just this secret, subtle awareness that more contact would be welcome? How to fulfill that desire? Fraser cudgeled his mind and that long fall of satiny-smooth blond hair caught his attention. Still caressing Ray, Fraser lifted their joined hands and began idly stroking Marina's long hair, feeling Ray fall dazedly into the pattern. And what was troubling Ray? His partner was wearing his pole-axed expression; the one Ray always swore signaled 'major mental meltdown'.

The merest breath of a languorous sigh wafted on the air, and as they stroked the hair away from her face, Marina's eyelids drooped half-closed too, heavy-lidded in a way so subtly sexual it only made the slow yearning stronger.

As their breathing settled into a deep even rhythm, perfectly in sync, Ray let go completely and gave himself up to the sensation, knowing Fraser was doing the same. He was so hard he ached with it and didn't care- it was such a good pain, so strong and alive. When the tape finished, Ray blinked drowsily and Fraser squeezed his hand.

"I'll get it this time," Fraser murmured, and Ray, Dief and Marina were content to wait as he slid the next vid in. Ray was amused to notice he'd picked the next tape solely on the length of the movie. Frase didn't like these interruptions of their subtle, three-way harmony any better than he did. Even refilling their mugs took too long, and when Fraser settled back on the couch, Ray didn't even think about what he did next.

He lifted Fraser's fingers to his lips and kissed them casually. Fraser's eyes slid half-closed in ecstasy and unreasonably tempted by that reaction, Ray's tongue slipped out and flicked over Fraser's fingertips in that subtle little caress they'd been giving Marina. It sent a bolt of desire straight to his gut and as the movie started, Ray ignored the TV and concentrated on tasting his partner. Those fingers were squeaky-clean and tasted faintly of mushroom, cheese and bacon. Ray drew the tip of Fraser's first finger into his mouth and laved it with his tongue, suckling it slowly; enjoying the way Fraser's face was going slack with pleasure. Awright, so there was a lot to be said for Fraser's oral fixation when it was used on something better than electrical sockets or mud.

It was exquisite, Marina's head pillowed on his shoulder, Fraser's finger in his mouth, and Ray gave that first finger a final lingering caress with his tongue and moved to the next, sucking that fingertip, enjoying the slowly building desire in his gut. Fraser's head was lying back against the couch, exposing the column of his neck, and Ray wanted to taste that, too.

Diefenbaker yawned sleepily and hopped down from the couch, ambling out to the kitchen for a drink, and when the wolf returned he stretched out in front of the heat vent on the floor and went back to sleep. It left more room on the couch...

Ray tugged gently on Fraser's hand and to his surprise his partner closed the gap between them without hesitation. Marina liked it, she snuggled up to Fraser as willingly as she'd snuggled up to Ray and the wolf, giving Fraser that same shy, drowsy smile he'd noticed earlier... and Fraser couldn't resist. He couldn't... this was why he shouldn't drink; his customary rigid control slithered out of reach at times like this. He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers; just a soft caress to see if he was truly welcome, and when she leaned into his kiss without hesitation, her warmth was drugging, intoxicating. Fraser kissed her with exquisite slowness; marvelously tender and sweet, savoring her mouth with the same lingering caresses Ray tasted his fingers with.

Fraser had no idea passion could be like this, thick and sweet and slow, stretching time out into discrete moments of lingering pleasure. No urgency, no angst, just a sublime, three-way awareness vibrating between him, Ray and Mina. Fraser knew what Marina was thinking, feeling, wanting, just as certainly as he knew what Ray was. To stay in this perfect sharing forever...

Fraser's free hand came up and caressed her cheek and when Ray's hand covered his it only made it better. Nothing intruded on Fraser for the longest time, their contact went on and on, slow caresses of Mina's silky skin, the drugging taste of her lips, the madly erotic feel on Ray's mouth on his other hand. When Fraser finally lifted his head and met Ray's smoky, hungry gaze, with everything Ray wanted written so plainly in his gold-flecked blue eyes, Fraser kissed his partner without hesitation. And oh, dear Lord, yes, that was the best of all... because Ray welcomed him without reservation, wanting him as much as he wanted Ray. A first in his entire life, to be wanted with as much fervor as burned inside his heart. Fraser lost himself in it; all uncertainty gone in the knowledge he was desired with no strings, no conditions, no venomous spite or hidden deadly traps... desired only for himself. What a wonderful, priceless Christmas gift.

Ray's strong, tense mouth was so different from Marina's sweet pliancy, Fraser never thought about it before but Ray's lean muscle and perpetual energy was powerfully erotic when it was slowed down. That jittery energy smoothed out to a rippling strength that was amazingly masculine and all but overwhelming. Awash in sensation, Fraser wondered dazedly how on Earth Stella had ever, ever been able to let go of her former husband. Ray in a sexual mood was like being around a wild animal, a lion or a tiger, feral strength and sheer male power not held in check but gentled to fold around you like a goosedown quilt. Raw force, used with the most delicate of touches. It was one hell of a heady combination. It made Fraser want to lie back and let Ray do whatever he wished, confident it would be pleasure and fulfillment beyond anything his limited imagination was capable of.

Fraser had no idea how long that mutual exploration went on, but eventually it penetrated their mutual awareness Marina had gone very still in their arms. Ray suckled a last kiss from Fraser's lower lip, they looked down together and both smiled involuntarily. Marina was asleep in their arms, cuddled between them with a smile of perfect contentment on her face as she slept.

"We should put her ta bed," Ray murmured, stroking her hair back gently.

"Indeed. I presume we'll give her your bed?"

"I figured. Ya mind bunkin' out here?"

"Not at all, Ray."

Fraser sat back and let Ray gather her up. Marina's exhaustion was such she didn't wake, just shifted a little and sighed in her sleep. Fraser preceded them into Ray's bedroom and pulled the covers down, letting Ray set her gently on the bed. He smoothed the covers over her and when Dief nudged his hand and whined inquiringly, Fraser patted the mattress beside Mina. Dief leaped onto the bed willingly and curled up right beside her. Marina's hand reached out in her sleep and tangled in the wolf's fur, and she sighed again and sank deeper into slumber.

They stood watching Mina sleep for a while, content to fill their eyes with her. Unwilling to let the closeness between them fade, Fraser let his fingers fumble for Ray's hand and was immeasurably relieved when Ray took his without hesitation. Ray even went a step further, tugging Fraser closer until he could slide an arm around his partner's waist. Fraser was more than happy to put a reciprocal arm around Ray and much to his surprise, resting his head against Ray's was the most comfortable, natural thing in the world.

Finally Ray shrugged and led Fraser out of the bedroom, carefully leaving the door ajar and a light on in the bathroom in case she woke during the night.

"Ya wanna watch the rest of the movie?"

"Not particularly."

Ray's eyebrows went up and he grinned sheepishly. "Ya wanna...?"

"Yes." The answer practically flew out of his mouth.

"Gotta say, never figured ya for bi, Frase."

Fraser blushed right to his ear tips and cracked his neck with a sharp sideways jerk. "I ascertained that after inadvertently overhearing your and Mina's earlier conversation. I was... unwilling to let you labor under such a misapprehension any longer."

"Thanks. By th' way, it's Marina. I think Mina's a pet name, like one of those names just yer close buddies call ya."

Momentarily distracted, Fraser shot him a sharply inquiring glance. "And you know this...?"

"Mom. She wormed it outta her and left me a note on the cookin' directions for tomorrow's dinner."

"Your mother would have made a fine detective, Ray."

"Yeah, but she'd be forever bringin' perps home fer dinner and it'd drive Dad crazy. Whadda ya think we should do about Mina, Frase?"

That was, as Ray would say, a loaded question. Fraser could think of any number of things he'd like to do to Marina, all of which he was quite sure Ray would enthusiastically participate in. But he couldn't mean... that.

"In what respect?"

"Well fer starters we never dropped a body off at the 17th, and I don't think she'd like us lettin' everybody know she's a little harder ta kill than usual."

"An excellent point. I take it we are going to directly contravene established procedure and aid her in eluding any official entanglements?"

"Yeah. Christ, I can't believe I understood that. I can't believe you said that." Ray scratched his neck thoughtfully and began to pace as he puzzled his way through the problem.

"Her clothes are tied up in a garbage bag by the kitchen trash, we ken sneak into the 17th tomorrow and bag 'em, tag 'em and dump 'em in the morgue. Fuck, but I wish we had those six slugs. If we had 'em we'd enough physical evidence to make the charges stick even without her body. 'Cause frankly, ain't nobody gettin' their hands on that girl's body but me an' you, buddy. Period end of sentence."

"Language, Ray." Fraser reached into a pocket and produced his bloodstained handkerchief, unfolding it to expose the six bullets. "Were you referring to these?"

Ray stared. "Where the fu... hell did you get those?"

"Marina coughed them up in your car during her... reanimation and left them on the backseat in her disorientated state."

"An' you just grabbed 'em? Fer no reason?"

"I... I, ah, had a hunch, Ray."

Ray stared harder. "You had a hunch? You never have hunches, Frase. You've never hunched in yer life."

"Apparently your proclivities are rubbing off on me, Ray."

Ray rubbed his forehead. "Jeez, Ben, I was sucking yer tonsils out fifteen minutes ago, don't talk about me rubbing off on ya when I'm tryin' to think here."

Fraser blushed so red there was no maybe about it- it had to be painful.

"Ya know yer really cute when you blush, Frase."

Ray's smirk was so smug Fraser felt compelled to respond in kind.

"I feel it incumbent on me to point out you are 'cute' at all times, Ray."

Ray's mouth fell open and snapped shut so fast he nearly bit his tongue. "You... mean that, Frase? No lie?"

"I never lie; Ray. You know that."

Pausing in his restless pacing, Ray whirled and pointed an accusing finger at him. "Ya bluff."

"I'm not bluffing now, Ray." Which might be the most truthful comment he'd ever made in his entire life.

Ray ran a hand over his hair, destroying his careful spikes. "Wow. Gotta tell ya, buddy, didn't see this one comin'. Man, this sure is one weird Christmas."

"Agreed. Ray?"

"Yeah, Frase?"

"Why are we doing this?"

There was a wealth of questions there. Ray took them in order.

"Three reasons. One, 'cause she saved yer life an' the wolf an' I owe her bigtime fer that. Two, an' more important, 'cause unless I'm crazy, I kinda think... we both sorta... fell for her. Like, real hard. Third, an' most important," Ray took a very deep breath and sat down on the couch beside his partner. "I love you, Frase. Not... symbolically or anythin'. I really... love... you. Guess I knew... underneath, for a long time. Just knew I didn't have a chance so I never let myself think it, ya know? And Mina... she gave me yer life today. She gave me you back. I'd give anything fer that. Anything."

"You're not crazy, Ray." The familiar teasing reassurance steadied Ray as Fraser laid his hands over Ray's, those capable hands so big, so warm on his lean scarred ones. "I find I have... very strong feelings about Marina, unbelievably powerful ones. So much so I was wondering earlier... if I was actually experiencing the 'love at first sight' phenomenon you have so often said exists. But more to the point, Ray, I..." Fraser found he needed a deep breath too. "I have been deeply in love with you for a very long time, Stanley Raymond Kowalski."

Pure surprise blossomed on Ray's face, rendered in white marble as the color washed out of his skin. "What, you knew? That you were in love with me? Like, for real?"

"Yes, Ray." Fraser cracked his neck nervously. "However, I also understood you were still in love with your ex-wife. Forcing my feelings on you would have been unwanted, so I refrained from burdening you with them."

Ray looked -if possible- more flabbergasted. "Yer not serious?" His voice went up an octave. "Ya thought... ya thought ya were burdening me? By telling me ya loved me?"

Rather discomfited by the way Ray was staring; Fraser tried to edge back a trifle, give himself room to breathe, as his chest felt tight.

Ray was having none of that. There had been way too much backing-off in their partnership already. He wasn't taking any more of it and his hands jerked out from under Fraser's.

Fraser's heart didn't have a chance to die from Ray's abrupt withdrawal, because before the Mountie registered what was happening, his partner had him flat on his back on the couch and was looming over him, hot blue-flame eyes locked bare inches away from his own.

"You are such an idiot, Benton Robert Pinsent Fraser," Ray said firmly, holding him down as he grumbled, the volcanic joy in his eyes putting the lie to his grouchy words as he kissed the corners of Fraser's mouth. "Like loving you could be any kinda burden. A pain in the ass, sure, now that I can buy. But a burden? Jeez, what a dork."

Fraser couldn't smother a laugh, he simply couldn't. The world was a beautiful place when it had Ray sprawled on his chest scolding him about self-worth issues between possessive, reproving kisses.

"I do believe that's the pot calling the kettle black, Ray." Nevertheless his arms slipped under Ray's shirt, found that golden skin was hot, hot under the green cable cotton.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Kiss me more. Kiss me lot, Ben. Like, now."

"Understood." And Fraser did what he'd wanted to do for months. Narrowed his entire world down to the feel of one Ray Kowalski in his arms, under his mouth, and simply feasted on the abundance of wonderfulness offered by one skinny Chicago flatfoot with experimental hair.

"I think I could spend forever kissing you, Ray," Fraser breathed, exploring the textures of his partner's mouth with dreamy slow deliberation. Hard but resilient lips, smooth slick tooth enamel, ridged palate, agile, hungry, eager tongue -dear Lord, what that tongue was doing to him- how could he have realized Ray's mouth would be a playground all his?

"Good ta know. Feel free ta practice a lot," Ray mumbled against Fraser's lips with sheer dizzy happiness, deliriously content but vaguely aware if this went much farther his and Fraser's first time might be on a too-narrow couch, and Frase deserved better then that. Not to mention that might be a kinda rude shock for Marina if she needed to pee. Still, there was no reason they couldn't hang right here for a while...

Almost an hour of shameless, slow necking later Ray stole a last, lazy kiss and sat up reluctantly. Controlling the urge to peel Fraser out of his clothes was a massive effort as he caressed Fraser's flushed cheek slowly.

"C'mon, Ben, let's sack out. It's late. Ya want th' couch?"

Of course, Fraser realized dimly, awash in erotic sensation. It would be utterly inappropriate to pursue such activities with a guest asleep in the next room. Unforgivably rude. It was just so difficult... Fraser fought to restrain himself; he wanted Ray with a single-minded, fixed determination that staggered him. He wanted Ray. Now. Controlling himself was a harder battle than any he'd fought before.

"I'd prefer my bedroll, if it's still here," Fraser said a trifle hoarsely; immeasurably grateful Ray did not press him to continue their activities. That, he could not have resisted.

"Yeah, it's in the closet from last time we went campin'."

The next few minutes were occupied with blankets, pillows and shutting down the apartment. Ray dug out an old Chicago PD T-shirt and scrounged up one of Fraser's RCMP tees he'd left behind during one of his previous visits. It tickled Ray to notice when they stripped down to t-shirts and boxers, both men carefully averted their eyes from the other. Fraser folded up Ray's sweater and jeans as carefully as he folded his own, though, stacking them neatly on the wing chair for the morning.

The whole likin'-each-other-as-more-than-friends thing was real new; super-terrific and beyond great, sure, but the sex part was weird enough Ray figured they might as well take it slow. He dug slow, knew it well. He'd left the tree lights on, and the multi-colored lights playing over the apartment illuminated Fraser dimly but clearly as he stretched out on his back in his bedroll. Stretched out on the couch, Ray rolled onto his stomach and decided he felt like talking for a bit. Be honest, Kowalski... he felt like flirting for a bit.

"Hey, Frase."

"Yes, Ray?"

"Ya wanna... good-night kiss?"

What an absurd question. Fraser turned to face his partner, struggling not to just throw himself at Ray shouting 'take me now!' "That would be very nice, Ray."

"Nice? That's the best ya can do? Nice? Jeez, Frase, way ta crush a guy's ego." To Ray's surprise, Fraser immediately looked distressed.

Damn! Jolted he'd used the expletive even in the privacy of his thoughts Fraser dragged his control back into place remorselessly. It was unthinkable this... hunger could be permitted to hurt Ray. He would not allow it. "I'm sorry, Ray, I didn't mean to imply..."

Ray held up his hands to stop the flow. "Whoa, whoa, Ben, just kiddin'. Relax. Joke." All right, Frase wasn't up for teasing on this subject just yet.

Fraser blushed and tried to tug at his uniform collar the way he did when he was embarrassed and it felt too tight. His fingers fumbled when the uniform collar wasn't there.

Ray chuckled. "Yer so damn cute when yer embarrassed. I love it, ya know."

Fraser was even more startled. "Do you really?"

Maybe they ought to get a few things straight before they went any further. Lay out a few guidelines so Fraser... or he... didn't get lost in this. It was way too easy to get lost in love; both he and Frase carried enough battle scars to prove it. Ray sat up, flipped the blanket aside and patted the couch.

"Back up here, buddy. Just for a minute."

Uncertainty flashed over Fraser's face for an instant, then he moved nervously into the indicated spot. Ray flipped the blanket back over their laps and wrapped a comforting arm around Fraser's neck and ruffled his hair.

"Awright, fast recap. I love you, Ben. Ya know that, right?"

Fraser practically couldn't breathe, he felt robbed off all air, and equally unable to draw anymore into his lungs. Trust Ray to lead with an absolute knockout punch. "Yes, Ray," he strangled out. "I know that."

"Ya don't gotta sound so damn terrified about it, but we'll work on that later. Yer my best friend, and nothin's ever gonna change that. Not even..." he made a vague gesture at how closely they were sitting. "...this. Ya know that, right? We'll fight, we'll argue, we'll get pissed off as hell at each other sometimes, but what's underneath, what's important, that ain't ever gonna change."

The follow-up punch was even more of a jolt. "Yes, Ray, I know that, too."

"Ya know I'd, uh... like ta... do more than kiss ya... if it's... okay with you? Like, maybe... how didja say it... on an ongoing basis?"

Fraser felt dazed. Where in the name of all that was holy did Ray get the courage to say these things? He would have taken three days to get out what Ray went through in three minutes. "You want... me? More than... now?"

Ray thought about looking offended and decided Fraser wasn't stable enough for that yet. "What, did ya think I was gonna suck face with ya an' fergit about it th' next day?"

That hit a nerve. Fraser turned and met his partner's eyes squarely. "No, Ray. I never thought that."

"Damn good thing, 'cause I'd be really pissed. Ya realize we're gonna havta be kinda cautious about showin' it at work, right? This kinda thing don't go down well with cops... an' Frannie's gonna kill us both if she figures it out. Dunno about Mounties, but the Ice Queen's gonna have a shitfit when she realizes yer off the market."

The first frown appeared. "I had considered the positive and negative ramifications previously, when I realized the depth of my feelings for you," Fraser admitted, driven to show a level of honesty equal to the one Ray was showing. "I find that facet very troubling, Ray."

Ray shrugged and nuzzled his partner comfortingly. "I don't like it either, buddy, but that's the world. It's changin'. We'll deal with it as it comes. Ain't like it's anyone's business but ours, anyway."

That was certainly a reasonable enough response. "Agreed."

"You and Dief wanna move in with me? I'd like that."

Dear Lord, the blows were landing too fast for him to keep up. "Live? Here?" Fraser blurted out.

"Ya practically live here anyway, Ben," Ray pointed out logically. "Fifty bucks says we could have you moved in here in fifteen minutes and no one would notice 'cept the Ice Queen couldn't keep 'accidentally' comin' in on ya when yer half-naked."

Fraser didn't want to think about Inspector Thatcher right now. "I never gamble for money, Ray."

"Yer gamblin' right now, Fraser, and with somethin' a whole lot more important than money."

That was a truth so huge and important it deserved a moment's consideration all its own.

"You're right, Ray." Fraser thought it through, hard and fast. Ray was correct, he spent the majority of his time here anyway, and although he had never admitted it before, he loathed those evenings when Ray dropped him off at the Consulate and drove away. It was unnervingly reminiscent of the times he would watch his father leave on yet another tour of duty. Leaving him behind. Ray genuinely wanted him here, and Diefenbaker would be overjoyed. The wolf adored Ray. Why hesitate? It would only hurt them all.

And Fraser had an epiphany... a positively blinding one. He was surprised it didn't sear his eyes. That would be his compass for this new closeness, right there. Who was he hurting with his decisions, and why? Not duty, not honor, not passion, when it came to love those had led him astray far too many times already. Caring. Trust. That was what was vital here.

"Yes, Ray, I'd like that very much."

Ray let out a shaky breath and Fraser realized his partner was not nearly so confident and calm about this as he appeared to be. It was... endearing, to realize this was as scary and important to Ray as it was to him.

"Awright. Now that and we figured out what to do about Mina... and we got you and me straightened out, Frase, there anythin' ya wanna do with Mina and me? 'Cause... I kinda got the impression there was."

Hoo boy, as Ray would say. And yet another massive sucker punch right there. "Er, well, I... that is..." Oh for God's sake, just spit it out. "Yes, Ray. I found her... amazingly attractive."

"Attractive enough ta do somethin' about if she likes? Which she does, if ya didn't notice."

Fraser swallowed hard. "You think Mina would welcome... such advances?"

Ray rolled his eyes. Jeez, his partner could be dense sometimes! "I know so, Fraser."

"And you... want to?"

"Do I wanna make love to you both? Here? Now? Yeah, Frase, I do. A lot." He paused and shot Fraser a straight-on stare. "Do you?"

Fraser cracked his neck in both directions with two sharp, wet snaps of bone. "In truth, Ray, I must admit...while I was... aware... of the concept of a menage a trios, I never thought... I would find a... situation where such an activity could... hold any attraction for me. I find given the current situation, I must... adjust my thinking in this respect. I... desire you... and Marina... quite excessively."

Listening to Fraser stammer his way through this confession, Ray was in his glory. Who knew sex talk with Fraser came with French subtitles and logical analysis of kink? Whatever, it was a crazy fucking turn-on, and Frase and Mina together? That seriously, seriously turned his crank. Man, Ray was pushing forty and discovering he had a taste for threesomes. How hot was that? And he was test-driving his brand-new, hotter-than-hell kink with two of the all-time sexiest people he'd ever met, for crying out loud! Sheesh, ya just never knew about life, didja?

"Yeah, kinda got that when ya had 'er lip-locked fer ten minutes straight. That excess lung capacity thing sure comes in handy."

Fraser realized he was being teased, albeit gently. Time to prove he could give as good as he got. "It does prove very useful when one's mouth is otherwise occupied, Ray."

Fraser watched Ray think that through and try to decide if was meant to imply what he thought it implied... and scramble his brain in the process. He couldn't keep a straight face and that was when Ray figured out he was being razzed.

"Damn smartmouth Mountie," Ray groused, grabbing his pillow and whacking Frase with it.

"Language, Ray," Fraser reproved in that same teasing tone, yanked the pillow out of his arms and tossed it aside, bearing Ray down on the couch, pinning him neatly under his heavier bulk. And once again, it felt so right. Subconsciously he must have wanted to do this since the first day Ray turned around in the bullpen, grinned like a lightening bolt striking squarely between his eyes and hugged him hard, a welcome he could have scarce imagined from the first Ray Vecchio.

"Gotta remember ya make a great blanket, Frase," Ray mumbled into his neck, resisting remarkably little, one long-fingered hand stroking Fraser's lower back in gentle circles. "With ya for a blankie I could even survive them damn cold Canadian winters the next time ya wanna go home fer a visit."

Fraser's heart contracted suddenly, sharply. "I take it you wish to accompany me, Ray?"

"Fraser, ya try an' go anywhere without me an' the wolf ever again an' I'll kick ya right inna head."

That was clear enough... and very sweet, in Ray's inimitable if totally unique fashion. "Understood."

"Yeah, I bet. Shaddup an' kiss me, Ben. Ya taste good."

"As you wish, Ray." Without thinking, because thinking would get him snarled up in totally unnecessary ways given they'd just spent the better part of an hour blazing through those issues to their mutual satisfaction, Fraser complied. Which gave an entirely new meaning to the term mutual satisfaction.

Ray had briefly succeeded in diverting the sensual side of the evening in putting Marina to bed and hammering out the details of this new facet of their friendship, but Fraser's broad, warm body over his, Ben's mouth on his, brought those emotions rushing back. Arousal was gathering in the pit of his stomach, spreading out in hot little tendrils to warm his skin wherever Ben touched it. Knowing his touch was welcome was all the encouragement Ray needed, but there was no need to beat Frase over the head with it.

For Fraser, Ray touching him back was a delightful reciprocation- those skilled, clever hands that handled a gun so competently, fixed a car so skillfully, gesticulated so eloquently, were exploring his arms and shoulders with shy hesitation. Ray, shy? Unbelievable... and yet Fraser knew -just knew- Ray would be a sweetly tender lover, gentle and kind with his best friend's shyness and uncertainty. But there was no lack of hunger, of ardor, and the urge to taste more of Ray was overwhelming.

How strange. The anxiety he usually felt in any kind of sexual situation was absent with Ray in his arms. Of course there was no way he could mistake Ray for a woman, or indeed for anyone but his dearly loved partner. Fraser knew that hard, lean body better than he knew his own, knew Ray's scent like he knew Diefenbaker's, recognized it on an instinctual level, equated it with so much intimacy of thought and feeling that this new intimacy of body felt perfectly natural. More, even- Fraser wondered suddenly if they had not encountered Marina would their friendship have led them to this point anyway? As inexorable as the pull of the tides?

Tired of the narrow couch already, Fraser wrapped his arms around Ray and rolled them both off the couch right into his bedroll. Room for them both to stretch out, room to touch, kiss, room for gentle exploration. Much better...

* * *