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

Author's Notes: FYI: For those of you who were thoughtful enough to send me emails, (thank you kindly) I'm going to post a chapter or two each week, on Sunday or Monday.

Story Notes: Highlander/due South crossover, with a cameo here and there from Hellboy.

SequelTo: Geometry: Chapter 4, Ritchie's Dead

The next evening, Marina stood in her pantry with Ray and Fraser behind her and the velvet-wrapped saber in her hand. "I cannot believe we all walked off and left this in the car."

"Ray and I walked," Fraser qualified. "You were carried, and in a sufficient state of agitation that the lapse is perfectly understandable."

Marina's glance over her shoulder was amused. "Is that what Canadians call a screaming fit of grief-induced hysterics? 'Agitation'? I'd hate to see what qualifies as 'pissed', then."

"I don't think Fraser can get pissed," Ray commented. "It's too impolite. He can barely do 'irate'."

"Really, Ray," Fraser chided. "You are giving Marina a highly skewed view of my personality."

"Stuff it, partner. So why are we standing in your pantry, Marina?"

Her smile was wicked. "Watch this." She looked down at Dief, who was sitting at her feet. "Show 'em, Dief."

Dief cocked his head and Ray would have sworn the wolf grinned; then barked, using that same short, two-bark combination he used on the elevator doors. There was the suck-pop sound of a airtight seal breaking and a soft current of escaping air moved across their faces, and the narrow back wall of her pantry moved back about an inch and slid smoothly behind the pantry shelves and out of sight. Lights brightened in the dark space, illuminating a hidden room. Ray and Fraser exchanged amazed glances.

Marina grinned and entered. "C'mon."

The room wasn't all that large, perhaps sixteen feet square, and wooden storage racks -similar to the kind samurai swords were displayed on at flea markets- covered three of the four walls.

Ray was willing to bet these floor-to-ceiling versions weren't cheap pine imitations, though. They shone with a subtle, deep ebony enamel that reminded him of the inky black gloss on the GTO. Blades of all shapes and sizes lay in the curves, some in sheaths, some with the gleaming blades exposed.

One sword -a Japanese katana, Fraser thought- lay in a freestanding rack in the center of the room, and Marina gave the hilt a lingering caress as she passed it. She set the saber gently in an empty rack, still in its velvet wrapping.

"It'll be fine here until you need it."

Ray itched to touch, but remembered these were probably valuable antiques and restrained himself.

To Ray and Fraser's surprise, Marina pulled the little picture of herself and Ritchie from her pocket, together with a red silk cord. She walked over to one particular sword, a gleaming slim blade with a ornate grip, and used the cord to bind the picture to the hilt, then kissed her fingertips and brushed them over the picture.

"I love you, Ritchie," she murmured, "I haven't forgotten. I'll never forget."

Fraser and Ray came over and looked over her shoulder at the rapier.

"Was it his?" Fraser asked gently.

She nodded. "I kept it. I couldn't bear to lose it." She leaned against Ray's shoulder. "Let's go."

As they left, Marina spoke. "Reset security." The lights flicked off, and the door slid closed smoothly.

"That's taken care of. If you need it, bring Dief over and get it. The master override on the security system is keyed to his bark. It'll get you anywhere in the building."

Ray and Ben swapped speculative glances. The weapons in there had to be worth a small fortune, and she just gave them the key to it. Trust, given all unasked for.

"Doing anything fun this evening?" Marina asked idly as they walked out into the kitchen.

Ray glanced at the kitchen clock and brought his hand up against his forehead with an exasperated smack. "Frase! Your hockey game started five minutes ago."

Marina noted Ben actually appeared distressed, which must mean he genuinely wanted to see it. She could never understand getting excited about watching sports, but obviously he was a fan.

"It's not important, Ray. In any case, by the time we got back to your apartment, the game would be half over."

Ray's mouth tightened and he glanced away.

Interesting implication there, Marina thought. Ray was more distressed than Ben was about him missing the game. That was easy enough to fix.

"So watch it here. You'll have only missed the first..." she fumbled for words. Innings? That was baseball. Quarters? Was that basketball or football? To hell with it, they were wasting time. "Whatever it is they measure hockey games in."

Ben looked tempted, which amused her immensely. Ray had no such hesitation.

"Doc, you are the best."

She couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Whatever, Ray. Want munchies?"

"Wotcha got?"

"There's beer in the fridge and hang on a sec, there's gotta be something edible in here." She went back into the pantry. "How's popcorn sound for a start?"

"Hand it over." A box of microwave popcorn came flying out the pantry door and Ray caught it handily and tossed it to Fraser as he pulled open the refrigerator door and grabbed two beers.

"Pop that, buddy?" Jeez, and Ray thought his fridge was bad. She had him beat six ways to Sunday in the Mother Hubbard's bare cupboard department. Fraser was right- they really needed to feed her more. Too bad it was a little late to be ordering pizza, the Doc was a sport for letting them stay, and Frase so seldom asked for anything Ray hated like hell disappointing him.

"Grab me a vanilla soda, please?"

"Beer's traditional with hockey, Doc."

"Bend tradition. I don't like beer." Marina's voice carried clearly through the open pantry door. "I could never get professional sports either. Basketball? Any sport where over a hundred points each is an average score means it's not hard enough. Football? It's an organized mugging! Hockey? So violent there's a little jail right on the playing field? Please! Sports! I'll watch it, but don't expect me to understand it."

Ray roared. He'd never heard it put quite like that. Funny as hell! But that comment about beer- that was odd. If she didn't like beer, why was there some in her all-but-empty fridge? Good beer, too. The expensive microbrew stuff that actually tasted like hops and yeast, not chemical water.

"What, you lived with a bargeful of men and none of 'em liked sports?" Rummaging through her fridge again for a soda, Ray could have bitten his tongue off at his careless comment.

To his shock, Marina chuckled. "Nope. Not a one. Ritchie liked motorcycles, Fitz liked drinking and bad practical jokes, Connor likes antiques, Methos likes books and computers, and Duncan, God help him, likes opera. And Darius... well, Darius was a priest and a monk. He liked helping people."

Ray and Fraser exchanged another amazed glance. Had they gotten a roll call of the men in her life? Without tears? As he waited for the popcorn to pop, Fraser analyzed the grammar in her sentence. It was quite revealing. Of the six names she rattled off, three were listed as past tense, three as present. That confirmed Ray's surmise about the loss of her family, she'd lost half, at least. But the present tense implied some part of her family still lived. If so, where were they when she needed someone so badly? Fraser simply could not believe any sane man would voluntarily abandon Marina when she was so hurt inside.

Marina came out of the pantry with a bag of corn chips, a jar of salsa and a cheerful Mexican pottery bowl. "Sorry, guys, no potato chips. I hate 'em."

"No prob." Ray opened the salsa bottle and dumped the contents into the bowl Marina gave him. "This'll do great."

They trooped out to the living room and settled in on the navy couch. Ray was rapidly growing addicted to those twin sectionals, they were so large and overstuffed even his long, bony frame had room to sprawl out in perfect comfort.

Marina picked up the remote and skimmed through the program guide until she found Fraser's hockey game. Sprawled on the sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace, Dief lifted his head and eyed the snacks, sniffed in disgust at the lack of potato chips and went back to sleep.

During the first commercial break, Marina reached for her soda bottle and flinched, leaning back and hissing under her breath in discomfort. Fraser caught her wince and was across the four feet separating them in a heartbeat.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, concern apparent as he hovered over her in that overprotective way that drove Ray to distraction whenever he got dinged up.

Marina eyed the six feet of agitated Mountie looming over her and transferred her gaze to Ray. "Is he always like this?"

"Always," Ray confirmed gloomily. "It's nice to see somebody else on the receiving end, I gotta say. As a friendly warning, avoid like poison anything he describes as an 'Inuit folk remedy'."

"Got it." She reached out and patted Fraser's leg reassuringly, making sure to keep it friendly when what she wanted to do was trace those lines of muscle with her fingertips and see if they'd shudder under her touch. "I pulled a few muscles in my shoulder when I was putting up the ceiling fans, Ben. I'll be fine in a day or two. No worries."

"Would you let me look at it? Please?"

Marina's brows drew together in puzzlement. "Are you always this persistent?"

"Give in," Ray advised. "He'll only keep nagging until you do."

"I do not nag, Ray."

"You nag, Frase. Constantly."

"I see no point in Doctor MacLeod enduring discomfort when I might be able to alleviate it, Ray."

Marina raised her eyebrows. "Ben, if you are going to insist on acting as my physical therapist, I think I'm going to insist on being 'Marina', thank you very much."

"Mistake," Ray said warningly, holding up a finger. "You gave him an opening."

"Very well, Marina." Fraser was sitting beside her by the time the second word was out of his mouth, his hands turning her right shoulder and back toward him, those strong, clever fingers sliding over her skin. Her instinctive protest died on her lips, replaced by a soft inarticulate cry of pleasure that made both Ray and Fraser shift uncomfortably, jeans suddenly a little constricting.

Fraser probed the deltoid muscle group deftly, finding the knotted cluster and tracing the extent of it. "Do you have any olive oil?"

Marina stared over her shoulder with difficulty but remembered Ray's warning. "Why do you ask?"

"Very good, never answer the bizarre questions. It's generally a trap," Ray said approvingly. "You're learning."

"Feel free to keep throwing clues."

Fraser shot his partner a positively prissy glare. "I need a viscous material to coat the muscle group before I can alleviate the knot with pressure."

Marina laughed lightly, shaking her head. "You're going to rub my back with salad oil?"

Ray decided to toss her another clue and see what happened. "Modern alternatives to the witch doctor versions he likes are acceptable if handy."

"I see. Hold on a minute, Ben." Marina got up and disappeared down the hallway that led away from the kitchen into presumably the bedroom area. After a minute she came back and tossed him a small clear vinyl bag. "I got it in my Christmas stocking two years ago. Will that do?"

Ben caught it and turned it over in his hands. It was an expensive-looking sampler kit of aromatherapy massage oils, apparently never used. "Excellently."

"Goody," she said a little dryly.

"Lie down," he instructed and with a long-suffering sigh Marina stretched out on her stomach on the couch, let Fraser to slip a cushion under her head and closed her eyes a little wearily.

Ray watched Fraser conscientiously read the labels on all six little 2-ounce plastic vials of oil before selecting one and flipping the cap up. He poured a small amount in his palm and let it warm before applying it to Marina's shoulder. Another inarticulate whimper of bliss drifted up from her at the touch. Ray grinned. Fraser rubbed his back for him once after he'd got worked over by a couple of hired goons during a case. Those big, broad, strong hands were amazingly dexterous, and found every aching pain point and patiently soothed it away.

"Almost worth the nagging, huh?"

Her reply was muffled by the pillow but understandable. "What do you mean 'almost'?"

Ray laughed. "Nice going, Frase, I think you found another chink in her armor. The lady's a backrub addict."

"Crap," Marina mumbled. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to a fellow addict."

Fraser looked over at his partner, a little surprised. "I was unaware you liked back rubs, Ray."

"Ya never asked."

Fraser reflected that was true, and the one time he had rubbed Ray's back, by the time he was done Ray had been an acquiescent sprawl of mindless contentment, very much like Marina was rapidly becoming. How very interesting. Had he had a devastating weapon against his sensualist friend at his disposal all this time and not known it? Experimentally, Fraser shifted his hands from Marina's shoulder to the back of her neck and she breathed out another delicious soft moan that made his jeans tighten uncomfortably again. A two-edged weapon, it seemed.

Concentrating on soothing Marina's hurts helped ease the tension, and as Fraser patiently worked his way down her back, he found her loose tank top impeded his efforts not at all, and the soft cotton rubbing across the back of his knuckles as he slid his hands under it was a subtly erotic caress. The game was back on, but it was a lot less interesting. Still, he could watch and rub at the same time, and it would be discourteous in the extreme to ignore the game after they'd imposed on her to stay and watch it.

Deciding to encourage the sleepy, relaxed atmosphere, Ray got up lazily and wandered over to where Marina was stretched out and sat down by her feet, tapping her heel lightly. Puzzled, she lifted them up long enough for him to slip under and lower her feet into his lap. He slid his fingers firmly down the inside arch of her left foot and was rewarded with a sigh of pleasure all his own.

Ray could see why Dief was obsessed with her feet, damn it, his careless comment earlier in the week was proving prophetic. He did want to suck on those pretty toes. They were squeaky-clean and smelt of mango and tangerine, and that coppery polish set off that tiny, ridiculously sexy silver toe ring she wore. They looked good enough to eat and Ray'd love to know if he could make her moan with nothing more than his mouth on her toes. He'd been hanging around with Fraser too long; the Mountie's obsession with licking everything was finally rubbing off on him.

"Whatever I did to deserve this, remind me to do it again."

Marina's breathy request made both men smile and Fraser stood up briefly, earning a muffled protest until he sat down by her head, where he could rub her back and still see Ray. Fraser didn't know why that was important, but he found it bothered him to have his back to Ray in this situation. This way was much better. It felt good, almost disturbingly good, to have Marina's warm skin under his hands and be able to watch Ray clearly enjoying touching her too, to watch Ray's long, agile fingers curl over and caress her toes and ankles in what was unmistakably idly erotic fashion. And how very clever Ray was with that. No pressure, but definite... interest. Lazy, slow exploration. It made Fraser wonder how those long fingers would feel touching his skin, and that was risky territory, that was. His feelings for his partner had always been dangerously ambivalent. That good night kiss -dear Lord, he still couldn't believe Ray had done that- had been on his mind constantly since the other night.

For her part, Marina was so lost in ecstasy at having warm, loving male hands on her body again she could have wept, would have if it wouldn't have upset Ray and Ben terribly. Even so a tear or two was leaking into the pillow, but fortunately the spill of her hair hid what little of her face wasn't mashed into the pillow. Dief was used to her crying fits, even if he disliked them. Bad as the incident with Ritchie's picture was, it was far from being the worst crying jag she'd had since exile. Witnessing the violence of her unshielded grief would probably scare Ben and Ray to death. Or at least out of her life.

But the sheer pleasure of being touched -the way Duncan and Methos would so often start making love to her- was rocking Marina to her soul, touching places scarred and paralyzed from how much she missed them, reminding her she was alive. It was a shock to discover someone else could wake up those feelings, but if by some insane miracle Ben and Ray started kissing her, she would have astonished them with the fire of her response.

Fortunately Ben was oblivious, or at least she was pretty sure he was oblivious, as she was getting to know the Mountie better Marina was beginning to figure out there was a lot more going on behind that innocent expression than Ben let on.

Ray wasn't oblivious, he was perfectly aware of what was going on and was walking the very same fine line of intimacy she was, with an ease that spoke of long practice. Apparently there was a current between both men they were aware of but were not acknowledging. Given their relationship as cops, friends and unofficial partners, the motivations behind that were obvious. Still, the level of trust they had to have with each other to be so open with her was pretty damn impressive. As far as Marina was concerned, there was no pleasure in life to compare with being cradled between Methos and Duncan's naked bodies, but the thought of being held by Ray and Ben was a sweet fantasy to while away the hours as their hands caressed her. She hadn't been so happy since the last night she'd spent with Duncan and Methos before her departure for the States. And the treacherous little comment slipped out before she could stop it.

"Can you keep doing this for the next nine years?"

As the innocuous comment slipped out, Fraser felt the muscles under his hands abruptly turn to iron, rock-hard with suppressed tension, nearly trembling with stress. From the baffled look Ray was leveling at Marina's face, hidden in the pillow, he'd felt her tension level skyrocket too. What was so horrid about her playful question?

Ray met Fraser's puzzled, worried eyes and shook his head, silently telling his partner this was not the time to push. "Dunno," he said lazily, continuing his slow caress of her ankle, nodding to Fraser to continue as well. "What's in it for us?"

Fraser took his hands away long enough to warm another few drops of oil and patiently started working on her injured shoulder again, as the sweet smell of cloves, almond and bergamot oil filled the room. Ray held out a hand and understanding, Fraser squeezed a few more drops from the vial into his partner's palm. Ray began slowly working his hands up her calf, trying to soothe the knotted tension away without being too obvious about it.

Marina didn't answer immediately, but when she did her voice was calm, if quiet. "What do you want?"

Dangerous question, that one. It made Ray think of things better suited to the letters column in Playboy. "Huumn, that's a tough one. What do you think, Frase?"

Fraser surprised them both with his answer. "I think touching Doctor MacLeod is its own reward, Ray. I think we should be asking her what she wants for the privilege."

A muffled wry laugh drifted up from where Marina's face was still hidden in the pillow. "Marina, Ben. When you have your hands under a woman's shirt, you are definitely on a first-name basis. You might want to remember that from now on."

Fraser went beet-red and would have snatched his hands out from under her tank top instantly if Ray hadn't given him such a fierce glare he froze in mid-movement.

"Er, yes, of course. I'll remember that, Marina." The muscles under his hands were easing, not back to the boneless level they'd been a few minutes ago, but at least not trembling like they were about to fly apart. They'd gotten past the danger point.

Another muffled chuckle. "You are so adorable, Ben."

"He is, isn't he?" Ray's slow chuckle echoed hers as he ran his thumbs up her hamstring. "And he's utterly clueless about it."

"That's half the attraction."

"True."

"I am right here, you know," Fraser said pointedly.

"Don't like the compliments, buddy?"

Fraser gave up. Ray and Marina's easy camaraderie about sex and attraction had a great deal to do with their both being 'Generation X', a group notoriously free of any and all inherited inhibitions, and a mindset he utterly lacked. "Compliment me all you like. Just don't talk about me like I'm not here."

Marina's hand came up and patted his knee kindly. "We're sorry, Ben. We like to tease."

"I know that." He still sounded stuffy, Fraser realized despairingly. Would he never lose that cursed reserve?

Marina sighed and moved, raising herself up on one elbow while reaching out with the other hand and winding it into Fraser's t-shirt collar. Puzzled, Fraser let her tug his face down until it was level with hers. The pillow's texture left creases on her cheek and those red lines distracted him, diverted his attention until by the time her lips brushed against his, there was no chance to back away. To his everlasting gratitude.

"We're sorry, Ben," she murmured against his lips, and pressed a second soft kiss into the corner of his mouth before sinking back down into the pillow.

"Er, well..." His face should be on fire. It wasn't. Fraser couldn't imagine what it did look like, but he was certain he should be glad of that. He probably looked like a pole-axed steer or a stag caught in the headlights' glare. And that was not the way to react when a beautiful woman kissed you.

"Do I have to kiss you to get you to forgive me?" Ray asked playfully, not above making his partner squirm a little more.

"Ooh, Ray and Ben kissing. That's something I want to see." Marina rolled over lazily onto her back and Fraser's hands perforce ran along her neck and settled over the front of her shoulders. Ray didn't seem disturbed by Marina's change of position; his hands settled her legs back across his lap and continued their lazy caresses uninterrupted.

Mindful that was probably an unsubtle hint, Fraser began gingerly rubbing her shoulders and neck, but instead of working down her front -his mind shied away in horror at what Marina would think- he began delicately working his fingers through the hair at her temples, smoothing out the tangles and automatically seeking out and caressing the pressure points there. A sound suspiciously like a purr drifted up as her eyes opened.

"I see no kissing here," she mock-grumbled. "Do partners get automatic dispensations? No fair."

"You heard the lady, Ben."

Ray's smile was blatantly daring, and hearing his first name on his partner's lips was making Fraser reckless. Why was he making such a big deal out of a kiss, anyway? If Marina and Ray could treat kisses lightly, in fun, damn it, so could he! He leaned forward, unconsciously licking his lips.

"Well?" he dared Ray.

Fraser was almost sorry as the look in Ray's eyes changed so abruptly it was almost frightening. It went from playful to... hungry. Starving. A ravening wolf barely held in check. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared: the merest crack in armor Fraser wasn't even aware Ray had. Ray was so utterly open about everything in his life to find out there was something he was hiding from Fraser was one hell of a jolt.

His gold-flecked eyes a mystery now, Ray leaned forward and placed his fingers under Fraser's chin, tipping it up a trifle to align their mouths better, and softly settled his mouth over his partner's. It was warm, and welcoming, and more vital than water, more essential than air. Fraser had no idea how he'd gone so long not knowing how incredibly sweet Ray's mouth tasted. He drank it in like a man dying of thirst.

When Ray finally broke the kiss Fraser was certain he must look shell-shocked. Ray grinned at his expression and shocked him again by leaning forward and nipping the tip of Fraser's nose, soothing the spot with a quick lick as he drew away. Ray's face was a study in layered emotions: affection, understanding, sympathy, a trace of arousal, and underneath all that something much deeper and stronger Fraser was too confused to put a proper name to.

Marina purred louder in approval; making both men look down at her in relief, the distraction allowing them to break that locked gaze without either having to initiate it.

"Wow. Now that was a kiss. Remind me to play spin the bottle with you two sometime."

"What are you doing Friday night?" tumbled out of Fraser's mouth before he could stop it.

Marina's eyes snapped wide open and she stared up at him in blank astonishment. Ray's jaw dropped in sheer amazement and he gaped at his partner for an instant before bursting into laughter.

"You win! Oh shit, buddy, you won that round!"

"Language, Ray," Fraser reproved calmly, feeling so at peace with himself and his friends it was unbelievable. He'd kissed his best friend with a gorgeous woman in their laps watching, and he wanted to keep doing it. And he was perfectly fine with that. Amazing. Maybe he should take Ray up on these dares more often, they certainly had the most unexpected results. He sat back and smiled benevolently at Marina and Ray's delighted, astonished expressions. "Consider yourselves forgiven."

***

As Ray drove Fraser home that night, his partner was quiet. That wasn't all that unusual, but this time Fraser was giving the impression he was reluctant to talk, rather than enjoying the quiet. Tired of it already, as Fraser was more than capable of brooding over things for weeks, Ray decided to get to the bottom of it before he had to endure another month-long bout of the mopey-Mountie blues.

"OK, Fraser, what is it?"

Fraser jerked upright. "I'm sorry, Ray, you were saying?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "I said what's wrong, Frase? You're sitting there looking like somebody killed yer pet wolf."

An appalled yip came from the backseat and Ray glanced into the rearview. "Sorry, Dief, nothing personal. But yer buddy here's been moping all the way home and I don't feel like dealing with it for the next month. How about you?"

Two short yips.

"See, even the wolf agrees with me." Ray pinned his partner with a look that knew him all too well. "So, I repeat, what's wrong, Benton-buddy? The Ice Queen on yer case again?"

Fraser looked if possible more uncomfortable. "No, Ray. I was just... lost in thought."

It was going to be like pulling teeth. Fine, he did persistent better than anyone, even Fraser. "So what were ya thinkin' about?"

Fraser shifted in the bucket seat. "A conversation we had... earlier in the week."

"And which conversation would that be?"

Fraser ran a finger over his eyebrow. Danger sign number one, Ray noted. Fraser was nervous. Wonder what had him so rattled?

"Which conversation, Fraser?"

"The... uh, conversation we had with Doctor MacLeod regarding the nature of friendship."

Not what he was expecting. "So what part of the conversation?"

Fraser ran a finger around the collar of his uniform, forgetting he wasn't wearing it, and oddly distracted by encountering his t-shirt collar instead. "Several parts, I suppose, Ray."

Aborted danger sign number two; Fraser was really wigged. Time to force the issue. "Are we partners, Frase?"

"What?" That jerked Fraser up short. "Yes, of course, Ray."

"Friends?"

"Yes." Fraser was almost hurt. Good, it might jerk him out of whatever this was.

"So why don't you trust me?"

"I do trust you, Ray. With my life."

"So why won't you tell me what's bothering you?"

Boxed in, Fraser shifted in his seat and cracked his neck nervously. Danger sign number three. Damn, he better park the GTO, this was going to get hairy. Changing his mind, Ray made an abrupt U-turn and slewed the car completely around.

Baffled, Fraser turned back to the receding intersection. "Um, Ray, the Consulate is back that way."

"We're not going to the Consulate, so that's not important, is it?"

"We're not?"

"No, we are not."

"May I ask where we are going?"

"My place."

"Why are we going to your apartment, Ray?"

"Because there is no way in hell I am leaving you there this bummed out with just the wolf ta keep you company. You two are stayin' with me tonight."

"Ray, that's not necessar..."

Ray held up a threatening finger. "I say it's necessary and you, Mr. Mopey Mountie, do not get a vote. You are staying over and that's the end of it. You can brood until we get there and then you are spilling your guts."

Fraser gave in. When Ray got like this there was no arguing with him. He only hoped his partner knew what he was in for.

Fifteen minutes later Ray shoved Fraser down on the couch, pushed a cup of tea into his hands, cracked a beer and settled in on the other side of the couch to listen. Dief crawled into the middle and curled up peacefully, his head on Fraser's knee. It was a measure of Fraser's agitation he didn't try to shoo the wolf off Ray's furniture.

"So, I repeat, what's bothering you about our friendship, Fraser?"

"Nothing!" Fraser sat up straight, dismayed Ray thought this was about him... well, it was, but not in a bad way... or was it? That was the crux of his dilemma. He didn't think it was a bad thing, but he had no idea if Ray would feel the same.

"So what is it then?"

Fraser didn't say anything, staring into his teacup, and Ray resigned himself to figuring it out on his own.

"Awright, you said something about the conversation we had with Marina on the nature of friendship was buggin' you. What part?" A light went on in Ray's head. Fraser was pretty freaked out when he'd told Marina about Luke. It had given him a bad moment there, until Fraser mentioned Mark. Maybe he should have paid more attention to that. "Is this about me and Luke? Or you and Mark?"

"No, Ray, it's about you... and me."

"What about you and... oh." Ray suddenly thought he might know what this was about. Which could be great, or could be a disaster. Time to tread very carefully, as carefully as he ever had around Stella at her worst. "What kind of you and me are we talkin' about here, Fraser?"

"I..." Fraser couldn't speak. The words stuck in his throat. He couldn't get past the lump there.

Almost alarmed, Ray set down his beer and nudged Dief down off the couch. The wolf grumbled but went, taking over the armchair with a last grouchy look at Ray. He put an arm around Fraser's shoulders comfortingly.

"Jeez, Frase, you're really freaked out. Relax, you're my friend. There's nothing you can say that will freak me out. Remember me, Mr. I'll-try-anything? Mr. Instinct? Stop worrying so much, just tell me what's buggin' you. I'm not gonna get mad. I promise."

Ray's kindness was loosening the knot in his throat but Fraser couldn't speak yet.

Realizing he wasn't getting anywhere, Ray switched tactics. He had to break through that wall of horror around Ben or he'd never get anywhere.

"Is this about that kiss the other night? Because it better not be a complaint, I'll have you know I'm a very good kisser. Great, in fact. One of the world's best."

A ghost of a smile flickered over Fraser's face. That was a good sign. To hell with it, Ray's gut was telling him to jump in with both feet, and hadn't he just told Fraser he was Mr. Instinct? Time to listen to it.

"I know what'll get through to you." Ray put his hands on either side of Fraser's face and hauled it up by main force until Fraser's miserable blue eyes were staring right into his. "You can hit me later if you want," Ray said bluntly, and kissed him.

Fraser went rigid with shock and his eyes got huge. Ray refused to let him jump away, locking one hand around the back of Fraser's neck and keeping his lips right where they were, softly kissing his partner. It took awhile, but after that initial jolt Fraser didn't try to pull away, so Ray kept kissing him, nuzzling those shocked and frozen lips until Fraser at last shook off his paralysis and shyly -so shyly it nearly broke Ray's heart- kissed him back. Now that was sweet. Who'd have thought kissing Fraser would be like this? Like those first shy, fumbling kisses with Stella, all those years ago. Ray'd have thought himself incapable of feeling this again, what an amazing surprise.

Ray finally broke the kiss for lack of air, remembering that buddy-breathe Fraser had given him on the Henry Allen back when their partnership nearly foundered. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to ask Fraser if nothing between them changed.

He left his hand on Fraser's neck, and placing his forehead against Fraser's said breathlessly, "You're not so bad at kissing yourself there, buddy."

"Ray?" Fraser's expression was so utterly sideswiped Ray felt like laughing.

"Yeah, Ben."

"You kissed me."

"Yeah. So? I kissed ya. Lightening didn't strike; the world did not fall apart. Civilization as we know it did not come to a catastrophic end. Now will you tell me what's bothering ya?"

"I..." Fraser had no idea what to say.

"I'll kiss you again." Ray threatened, his grip on Fraser's shoulder tightening.

That made him laugh and Ben kidded weakly, "Is that going to be your standard threat with malfeasants now, Ray? Surrender or I'll kiss you?"

"Trust me Fraser, that would have most of humanity running screaming in the opposite direction, but no, this threat is reserved for moping Mounties."

"I'll remember that the next time Turnbull is homesick."

"Eeewww..."

"Do you have something against Constable Turnbull, Ray?"

"Yeah, he's not my partner, and regardless of what you might think here, Frase, I don't go around kissing any old guy. Or any old girl, for that matter."

"I never thought that, Ray." Fraser was distressed at the very implication.

"Gonna tell me what's bothering you yet?"

Fraser tensed up again; Ray could feel his neck muscles knot under his long fingers. Time for a second dose of shock treatment. Ray sighed and stood up, walked around Fraser -he could feel those blue eyes following his every move- and wedged in between his partner and the arm of the couch. He took the teacup from Ben's nerveless hands and set it on the end table, leaned back in the corner of the couch, pulling on Ben's shoulder gently.

Puzzled but not entirely unwilling, Fraser let Ray tug him into a comfortable sprawl on the couch, his head pillowed on Ray's chest, one arm around Ray's waist and the other pillowed on his chest. To Fraser's surprise it was very... cozy. Safe. Comfortable. He laid his cheek against his partner's chest and felt the slow, steady heartbeat there soothe him. Ray's fingers came up and began combing through his hair. It felt... wonderful. And while he couldn't see Ray's face, his partner was wrapped right around him and Ray's uniquely comforting, familiar scent enveloped him, filled his nostrils.

Ray felt Fraser relax almost against his will. "Better, partner?"

A pause. "Yes, Ray. Much... better."

"Awright. Not gonna push here for a minute, Frase. Get yer feet back under ya."

"Understood." And indeed Fraser was content to rest in Ray's arms for long minutes and think. His partner couldn't be upset if he was kissing and cuddling him like this. Fraser wasn't that stupid. Why it surprised him Ray was a cuddler Fraser couldn't imagine, Ray was one of the few people his habit of casual touching neither disturbed or, as in Frannie's case, assumed it meant more.

All right, so Ray was not nearly as disturbed about this as he was. There was a role-reversal he hadn't expected. And since he was the one 'freaking out' as Ray put it, perhaps he should stop assuming Ray would get angry at what he was about to say and try to discuss it rationally. He cleared his throat and started.

"I was thinking about the part of our discussion involving 'experimental relationships' and..." Fraser stalled out. Ray wasn't surprised. Words like 'fuck buddies' didn't come easily to his friend.

"And fuck buddies?" Ray prodded. What a riot, he could feel Fraser's cheek heat through the thin cotton of his t-shirt as he blushed. Not to mention having Fraser wrapped around you was better than an electric blanket. That body put off heat like a furnace. It would be impossible to be cold in a bed with this guy. And that was a pretty nice thought right there, now wasn't it? Good thing, considering the way this conversation was headed.

"Er, yes, Ray."

"So what about it?"

"It... intrigued me, to be honest."

"And?"

"I was... I thought... I wondered if..."

Christ, they'd be at this all night if he let Fraser lead. He knew the relationship dance better than Frase- time to kick things along. "Didja wanna try it?"

"Er, well, maybe... yes," he blurted out. "If you did."

"Got no major objection to the idea," Ray said calmly and felt Fraser's shock like an electric current along his skin.

"Just like that?" Fraser blurted out, too startled to be tactful.

Ray sighed. "No, Frase, not 'just like that'. You're my best friend. My partner. You accepted me when I took this Vecchio thing before anyone else did. You put me back together when I was a freakin' mess after the breakup with Stella. I've never had a friend like you, and if ya wanna try takin' it to the next level, I'm OK with it 'cause it's you. No other reason."

Silence for a moment while Fraser processed that. "Understood, Ray."

"That's what had you so wound up?" He figured that was it, but Ray knew better than to make assumptions about people in relationships any more.

"Not...entirely."

Speak of the devil. "So what else?"

"It's about... Doctor MacLeod."

"Marina? What about her?"

"I... er... ah..."

Stuck again. Sheesh, they did have to work on Fraser's hangups. He'd never met another human being so wound up about admitting he liked anyone. So they'd dance around this one a little first, maybe let Ray get the lay of the land.

"She's nice, isn't she? Dief's got good taste."

"Very... nice."

"Fun to be around."

"Yes."

"Good to look at, too. Not as pretty as you, but hey, who is?"

"Ray." Very reproachful, that comment.

"Hey, you're the one talkin' about hoppin' into the sack with me. What's wrong with me thinking yer hot?"

Fiery blush this time; Ray'd hit the bulls-eye with that shot.

"Er, well, nothing, I suppose, but..."

"Get used to the occasional compliment, Frase. I like givin' 'em to people I love." He didn't give Fraser time to freak over that comment but dragged him back to the subject of Marina. "So what about Doctor Mac?"

"She's... I... you... we..."

Ray was getting better at extrapolating sentences from Fraser's stuttered beginnings. This one was a doozy if he was interpreting it correctly.

"You like her too, dontcha?"

"Yes."

"Me too. A lot."

"Really?" Hopeful surprise in Fraser's voice. Good sign.

"Heck, yeah. Smart, kind, funny, hot as hell, what's not to like?"

"Nothing, I suppose, but..."

"Not sure she's inta the whole threesome thing?" Why the hell his t-shirt wasn't catching on fire from Fraser's blushes Ray would never know. He wouldn't be surprised if he had a blister on his chest in the morning where Fraser's cheek was resting.

"Er... well..."

"Fraser... Ben. If we're gonna try and coax Mina inta our bed, you're gonna haveta stop dying of embarrassment every time it comes up."

"Ray!"

"Don't 'Ray' me, it was yer idea, buddy. I think it's a frickin' great one, but it's your idea."

"You... like it?"

"Hell, yeah, turns me on like crazy. Doesn't it for you?"

Silence for a long moment. "Yes." Another long pause. "Very much."

Exposition needed here. "Dunno where ya got the idea it wasn't OK to like people that way, Frase, but yer wrong."

"I'm wrong?"

"Yeah. It does happen occasionally. And it's an improvement on the alternative."

"The alternative is?"

Ray grimaced and took another swig off his beer. "You know that thing we usually do when we like the same girl?"

"Ah." Fraser pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You mean that thing where you get jealous, and I get defensive, and we both say things we don't mean and fight? And when the one who got the girl has his heart shattered into a thousand jagged little pieces, the one who didn't get the girl has to put his partner back together while the whole station walks on eggshells?"

Ray gaped at his partner. "Yeah... yeah, that. Let's not do that. Let's just agree ahead of time we are not gonna do that."

"Understood. Excellent thought."

Yeah, right. Definitely more exposition on the trio topic needed here. Ray backed up and organized his thoughts; this was going to be important later on.

"See, Frase, what I think is that love doesn't always come in nice neat little two-part packages. It just... happens sometimes, and it doesn't matter what the outside looks like. What matters is how ya feel inside, when you're around 'em. Do they make ya happy? Feel better when yer down just 'cause they're near? Tears you up inside to think about losing them? That's love, Frase, and it doesn't always come boy-girl or one-on-one. But I do know one thing." Ray stopped. Fraser was going to have to ask for this one.

Fraser picked up on his cue. "What's that, Ray?"

"We're cops, Ben, pushin' forty. The odds are stacked pretty hard against us, and most people only get one chance in life to fall in love. We both know how well that went for us... but we got a second chance here. Only it's better this time 'cause I get you, and the wolf, and her all in one. I don't wanna screw this one up, buddy. I really, really don't wanna screw this one up."

"Understood, Ray."

"One ground rule, Fraser."

"What's that, Ray?"

"This is between us, and Marina if she's interested. The department's got real strict non-fraternization rules about this kinda thing. It could get both of us in a helluva lot of trouble if people find out. Like me up in front of a disciplinary committee and hell, for all I know they shoot you Mounties for having impure thoughts. People can wonder all they want, but we don't say anything or do anything at work."

"Understood, Ray." Very unhappy tone, there.

"I don't like it either, buddy, but we wear the badge and the uniform, so we play by the rules. At least on the job. What we do on our own time is nobody's business but ours."

"I suppose you're right, Ray. But... I don't like it either."

"Nobody said ya had to." Ray glanced over at the neon clock on his wall. It was almost one-thirty, and both of them had to get up early. "C'mon, Frase, let's go to bed." Fraser went rigid in his arms and Ray sighed. Gonna have to watch his language for a while. "Not like that, buddy. We'll ease into it, awright? The couch is too small for you. You can crash with me tonight."

Fraser relaxed minutely. "Very well, Ray. Thank you kindly." After all, it wasn't like it was the first time he and Ray shared sleeping quarters.

Ray hunted up a t-shirt for Fraser to sleep in, killed the kitchen lights and fed Turtle to give Fraser some time to change in private, checked on Dief snoring peacefully in the wing chair, then stripped down to boxers and tee himself and tumbled gratefully into bed. And sighed again. Fraser was lying on the other side of the bed as rigid as that stick he usually had up his Mountie ass. Ray wondered if he wasn't too damn old to dance through another relationship. Then again- who was he kidding? He loved this dance just as much as the other kind.

"Roll over, Frase," Ray said sleepily. Fraser hesitated then did as he was asked. "Stuff the arm yer lying on under the pillow so it's comfortable." He complied. Ray snuggled right up against him spoon-fashion and wrapped Fraser's arm around his waist, loosely lacing his fingers through Fraser's to keep him from pulling away. "Go to sleep, Ben."

"Yes, Ray." There was a pause, then to Ray's surprise Fraser gingerly pressed a kiss against his shoulder. "Sleep well."

Ray grinned in the darkness and restrained the urge to punch the air in triumph. "I will as long as you're here, buddy." Too old for this? No way in hell.

***