Disclaimer: So not mine. Not by a long shot, but I like to bring them out to play now and then.

Author's Notes: Strap in and get out the tissues, this one's rough.

I didn't know what love was, I know that now. No one had ever shown me, no one had told me that I was loved, even as a child. I realized much later that I was neglected. Not abused per se, I had everything I could need in regards to food and water and shelter. But not love. Not from my father, who loved his career more than me. Not from my mother, who died without ever holding me that I can remember. Had she ever at all? Sometimes I wonder. I can't remember anyone ever just reaching out and holding me, loving me for who and what I was.

Until Victoria. She showed me that I could love, and for the briefest span of time, that's what I thought I had with her. But I found out the hard way that it was never love. I know now that I still don't understand what love truly is. I still carry the scars of that lesson, both within and without, and I will until the end of my days, a constant reminder of all that I do not understand. I thought I would never want love again, not if she was any indication of what love could do.

And then Ray Kowalski held me. The first day we met, this striking polish man with unusual hair reached out with a smile as bright as sunshine and held me for everything I was worth.

And I liked it. I'd kept my distance from everyone around me, keeping an arm out to stop anyone from getting close. But Ray had just batted it away, pushing aside my defenses and sweeping in to touch me as no one had....ever. I felt a deep affection for him from that moment, and it did not take long for those feelings to grow and deepen still, despite all my efforts to the contrary. And yet as I continued to watch myself fall further into my own feelings, I began to wonder why I wanted to thwart something so wondrous. I always felt so safe near Ray, and I didn't have to wonder whether or not he would be there when I needed him. I knew I would do anything for him, and though it did startle me a bit to feel so, I was able to admit, after a fashion, that I didn't mind so very much at all.

And yet I knew he could not feel the same. At first that had bothered me, knowing that regardless of how long we were a team, he would only see me as his friend. Yet I was content with that much. I knew I would never truly be able to give my heart to another person again, but Ray didn't ask that of me. He put up with my sometimes unusual ways, dismissing my flaws and calling me 'freak' in the most affectionate way anyone ever could. He even started talking to Diefenbaker, but Dief had always liked him, and that struck me as a good sign.

And so it has been ever since that first day. We worked together, spent time with each other, laughing and talking about everything and nothing, and I was content. I knew that I would care for him deeply for the rest of my days, and though he might never be my lover, he would always be my brother. And that is enough...

Diefenbaker reached out and gently licked his hand, much as he had every night about this time for the past year. Had it truly been so long since he'd returned to Canada? For once, Fraser couldn't be sure. He'd found this tiny little place so easily, he'd often wondered if this wasn't his punishment. This small, one-man outpost in the middle of nowhere, so far away from civilization that most of the world didn't even know it existed. Aside from the Bed and Breakfast only ten miles away, Fraser had seen barely a soul in all the time he'd been in this place. That tiny inn was the only reason he was even posted here. Francis was tired of hunting down lost tourists and hikers himself, so Fraser and Diefenbaker had been assigned to this beautiful if modest cabin to serve as a refuge for wandering outsiders, and as an outpost to mount searches for those missing in the wild. Nellie did make a fine dinner now and then, and Francis was indeed one for good conversation, but recently those visits had become far less frequent.

But Fraser didn't mind at all. He was a day's travel from Yellowknife, and everyone else aside from Nellie and Francis was a day away from him. A day and a lifetime. Diefenbaker laid down and set his thick muzzle over Fraser's foot as the memory washed over him once more.

It had been a rough investigation. Drug smugglers had been bringing contraband heroine down to Chicago from Canada through the thinly patrolled border. Ray had found an interesting lead, and Fraser had followed him down to the harbor just off of Navy Pier. He didn't think anyone would be so brazen as to exchange drugs in such a public place, but perhaps it was that kind of thinking that the smugglers had been counting on.

And sure enough, Ray's lead had been right on target. A little too right on, and the smugglers had been just a little too paranoid. Though he hated even the prospect of carrying it, it had been the one and only time Fraser had ever been forced to draw his sidearm. A second too late...

"Frase, look out!" Fraser barely heard the warning before his gun was out. He hated the stupid thing, but in that moment he knew he had no choice. He turned to see the man Ray had warned of squared on him, a rifle aimed for his heart.

A heart that stopped as a figure leapt from the darkness. The shot rang out, and all Fraser could do was watch it catch within the chest of that same figure. He fell to the ground with a cry Fraser had only before heard in dying animals. He feared a moment for Diefenbaker, but as the figure hit the hard cement floor, Fraser could only scream as Ray's bright, vibrant eyes glazed over, blood everywhere.

The smugglers ran for their lives, only to be captured just outside by police. Fraser used Ray's radio to call for help, but in the moments it took help to arrive, he covered the deep would with his own tunic, not caring what the consulate thought of doing so.

"Hold on, Ray. Help is on the way."

"Fraser..." Fraser reached out reflexively and placed a hand to his friend's paling forehead, dazed crystal eyes darting back and forth as if they could not see. "Don't leave me, Fraser..."

"Just hold on, Ray." The words sounded hollow to him, but he knew nothing else that he could do. He heard the paramedics arrive and reluctantly let them do their work. Tubes and fluids and bandages flew before his eyes, Ray's battered body seeming so small upon the litter. Fraser rode in the ambulance, never leaving Ray's side, holding his hand in an iron grip as his own heart thudded with every weakened beep of the heart monitor.

The hospital had smelled sterile and stagnate. He'd watched the gurney wind its way through the swinging operating room doors, doctors and nurses moving about frantically trying to save Ray's life. A life Fraser had cost him. A life he'd watched snuffed out in his very arms...

The next thing Fraser'd known he was home, packing. Diefenbaker had whined regularly, sniffing at his bloodied uniform, but Fraser had paid him little heed. The uniform was bagged, a replacement put on, and he made his way to the airport, calling in a favor that would take him back home, where he belonged. Away from this horrid city. Away from these people. Away from the pain. Ray. The only saving grace of this whole train wreck of an assignment, and now he was gone...

For five hours of plane travel, Fraser had wept, holding the bag that held his bloodied uniform and praying to every god he knew of for forgiveness. He felt none. He knew he would receive none, especially from the one man it counted from the most. The only man...

Fraser made his way unsteadily to bed, knowing full well that if he dreamt this night, it would be of red flashing lights and blood. So very much blood. The same nightmare that preyed upon him every night, every day waking him to grief. Empty, lost...

~*~*~

"Ok. He's been transferred, I get that. Where the hell to?" For the third time on his first morning back at the office, Ray Kowalski was yelling. It seemed a strange comfort to his coworkers, but to Ray it was down right irritating.

"I'm afraid that information is privileged, Detective." Turnbull, as staunch and proper as ever, and at that moment Ray wanted to wring the discipline right out of him.

"Look, Turnbull, I'm going to be blunt: either you tell me what I want to know, or I'm going to come down there and get it myself. And if I have to do that, you're going to be very unhappy, do I make myself clear?" He could practically hear the man sweating. Good, at least someone at the damned Consulate knew what kind of man they were dealing with.

"Please allow me to transfer you to someone who can help you, Detective." Finally, some progress. Ray leaned back in his chair just in time to see his captain come in with a very sour look on his face. Great. His first day back and he was already getting the evil eye.

"Good morning, Detective." Inspector Thatcher. Though it was good to finally get someone with some reason clout on the horn, Ray wasn't too thrilled about dealing with this particular piece of work. "I'm sorry to report that Constable Fraser is no longer available to liaison with your department."

"That's exactly why I'm calling, Inspector. Can you tell me where he is?"

"I'm very sorry, Detective, but I cannot give you that information." Her voice held a hint of something, and it wasn't remorse. Pleasure? Triumph, maybe? Ray swore away from the phone and took a deep breath, trying desperately to sound calmer than he was.

"Look, Thatcher, I just spent half a year in the hospital, so please do not jerk me around more than my union rep, ok?"

"I was sorry to hear about your injuries, Detective, but protocol does not allow me to-"

"I don't care what your protocol does and doesn't allow! If I have to go around you, you old buzzard, I will!" The phone slammed into the cradle, and half the squadroom stopped dead in its tracks. Huey and Dewey looked up from their respective desks just in time to see where the seething if brief roar of frustration had come from.

Ray scrubbed his face hard, trying to somehow ease the pain this was causing him. Where the hell had Fraser gone? And more importantly, why? He could still remember waking up in the hospital to only his mother and father standing over him. He'd expected Fraser to be there, and he'd asked for him at first, but the Mountie was nowhere to be found. Ray was never able to understand why his friend had abandoned him. But no, Fraser would never do that. It didn't make any sense. And Ray vowed from that sickening hospital bed that he would find Fraser and figure out what the hell had really driven him away.

Ray had then spent the next few months worrying about whether or not he'd be able to walk again. The bullet had hit a nerve and pinched it good, but it had bounced back into place eventually, allowing Ray to go into Physical Therapy and ultimately get his job back. But even through it all, Ray had only one focus in mind: Fraser. Finding him. Talking to him. Giving him the biggest bear hug this little Polish could muster.

And suddenly a lanky, slightly off smelling form stood at his desk, and Ray looked up in the nauseating half smile of the one Detective he really didn't want to talk to just then.

"Something troublin' you, Vecchio?"

"Not today, Huey. Please, any day but today."

"Fair enough. Next Tuesday good for you?" Oh, that was it. Ray leapt from his chair and took Huey bodily by his shirt, slamming him down on the desk and knocking the wind out of him.

"Look, you sorry-assed-"

"Detective Raymond Kowalski?"

"WHAT?!" A very small young man looked up at him from the squadroom doorway with truly frightened but none the less black eyes. The color drained from his face as his expression fell away. He extended a visibly shaking hand as he swallowed hard.

"I have a telegram for you, Sir."

"If it's a singing telegram, I'm really not in the mood." The young man swallowed again, his adam's apple bouncing rather precariously across his slim neck.

"I ascertained that much, but all I need is your signature, Sir." Ray signed the pad quickly, taking the envelope and grumbling a stiff 'thank you'. In the moment it took to read the sending address (Brisbe? Where the heck was that?), the young messenger was gone, and half the bullpen was staring at Ray, a wide array of expressions gracing their facing, ranging from curiosity to fear to mild amusement. He strode back to his desk and slumped into his chair.

"Cool. I've never gotten a telegram before..." Huey leaned over Ray's desk as the seal of the enveloped popped open. At Ray's unmoving hands he looked back up, only to find death staring him in the face.

"Don't you have something better to do than breathe down my neck, man?"

"Well, excuse me for living. Sheesh." He stalked off, making a scene as he usually did when unsatisfied. As often as he does that, it's easily been years since he's gotten any. With a small smile of contentment at that thought, Ray returned his attention to the letter in his hand, and as the first sentence fully registered, his mouth went dry.

Victoria Metcalf found strangled. Child doing well. Stop. Seeking one Constable Benton Fraser for paternal responsibility. Please Respond. Stop.

"Oh my god." He read it again, certain he'd somehow read it wrong the first time. Then the second. Then the third. After the fifth time, he wasn't so certain anymore. Fraser? A father? With that bitch? It couldn't be, could it? The return address had said something about North Carolina, and before the telegram paper hit his desk, he was dialing information.

~*~*~

The fire crackled gently in the hearth, and Fraser stared into the gleaming lights as they danced across dried wood. His mind drifted, as it sometimes did during these times deep in the night when he was the only thing awake. Often times it felt as if he was all that sat awake in the whole of the North.

Yet as he watched the fire gently from the shadows across the floor, the shadows themselves seemed alive against even his prone feet so close to the layered brick of the fireplace. The shadows danced as did the flames, a mass of life and yet... what form would it truly take in the end? Only darkness, darkness in all its formless void. Fraser knew well that feeling, that hole so deep inside that it seemed to burn. And it did burn, as surely as the flames before him. He closed his eyes, and all he could see was that face, taught with fear and pain, and all he could feel was the burning, sharp, harsh, unending.

Fraser shot to his feet, needing something to ease this insanity. What trespass on earth could be worthy of this hell? Had he done something, said something, to deserve this punishment? Yet even as the thought entered his mind, eh knew the answer. Yes, he had done something. One thing, and this was his rebuke. Years of training, of study. Months spent in the presence of this one man, learning his mannerisms, his actions, the patterns of his thoughts. And in the one moment when the culmination of all he'd done came to be, he'd failed. Failed to do as he knew he must.

How could he be so foolish? He was no partner, and now he had no partner.

He walked to the edge of the fireplace and to the trunk that sat just outside the gleaming firelight. The latch came undone with worn ease. Fraser reached into the careworn chest and retrieved the small cloth package he knew so well. He unwrapped the outer fabric to reveal the crimson cloth beneath. He dropped the wrapping and sting away and clutched the crimson and scarlet fabric to his chest. He fell to one side, his bed coming out of nowhere. How had he come to be so close to his bed? Did it matter?

Obsessed. Yes, that was the word for it. Though was it truly? Ben had never thought of himself as someone who could become obsessed, and yet here he was, holding his oldest red tunic, covered in his partner's blood. He held it to his face, the hard, dried blood making the fabric stiffer than it already was. But if he tried hard enough... yes, there it was. Ray. The scent was unmistakable, even after this much time. Soft cologne, hard candy, and that infernal, indefinable smell that sent Ben's stomach reeling.

Or at least it used to. There had been a time when it set him so off balance, he'd toyed with the notion of leaning in for more. Ray had fallen into his arms once in the Homicide Squadroom late one evening, quite by accident, but the effect was nonetheless intense. For a moment they'd stayed there, frozen, Ray dangling in Ben's strong arms, the Mountie's face so close to him that if he'd reached out with his tongue, he could have swiped Ray's nose. Or lips. Or any other part of his face that seemed to need tasting. And so much of it did.

But Ray had made this noise, something between embarrassment and confusion, and Ben had set him right, ignoring the uncomfortable distraction forming in his nether regions. Ray had looked at him a moment, something Ben couldn't quite read across his face, but it vanished as quickly as it had come, and they had gone about their normal day.

Ben reached out, knowing he would feel nothing but bedspread and air and yet needing to know he was still alone. This smell of Ray so close, he felt as if his partner was with him, close enough to touch. He reached out, grasping nothing, feeling nothing, and yet if he tried, he could just remember how it had felt to know warmth at his fingertips. Ray's warmth. Ray's scent. Ray, who would never come back to him. Not now...

Ben closed his stinging eyes. Normal days. How long had it been since any day of his was anywhere close to normal? This wasn't normal, Ben knew. He was curled up on his bed, holding his partner's blood in his arms and trying hard not to start crying again. This wasn't normal. It was sick. Sick, sick, sick...wonderful... He drifted off to sleep, his tunic still clutched close, even when Diefenbaker curled up on the foot of the bed, his soft white muzzle draping over Ben's exposed ankle. Ben never noticed as he smiled gently in his sleep, the bloodstain curving just under his chin, his fingers curling in his dreams around a ghost he could almost touch...

~*~*~

"Department of Family and Children, how can I help you?" The voice that came to him had such a glorious yet understated southern twang that for a moment Ray could see Scarlet O'Hara behind a receptionist's desk on the other end of this call. But the image faded as he saw Victoria's face looming in the darkness, and below that image her child. Fraser's child.

"Yes, my name is Detective Raymond Kowalski, from the Chicago Police Department. I'm trying to find information on the child of one Victoria Metcalf. I received a telegram this morning-"

"Ah, yes, Detective, I have the information right here. I'm sending you to the cell phone of Minnie Simpson, the young boy's caseworker. She should be able to tell you what you need to do."

"Thank you." The line cut out a moment, then rang only once.

"Detective Kowalski?" No accent. No greeting. No nonsense. Ray swallowed.

"Y-yes."

"Good morning, I'm Minnie Simpson, and I believe I have someone who wants to meet you." She was smiling. Ray could hear it in her voice, and that was somehow a comfort against her rather crisp speech. Her being so cut-and-dry was becoming mildly disturbing. And he wasn't even looking at her yet, which in and of itself was troubling. A cop? Scared of a social worker? Over the phone, no less! You heard it here first! Will wonders never cease in the wonderfully weird world of Kowalski, super chicken cop?

"I... uh..."

"Well, not to worry. I'll be arriving in your fair city in less than two hours. Please meet me in three hours time at the Cook County Building. Being an officer, I'm sure you can bypass Security to meet us on time. I'll need you to fill out some paperwork." Ray leaned back in his chair, for once at a loss for words. Boy, did she change gears fast! Bright, chipper, conservative, and she wouldn't take any crap, that was for damned sure. She sounded like the daughter of June Cleaver and his old Drill Sergeant, Pitts, and boy had he ever been... There's a joke I haven't heard in a while. Frase would not have approved, which would have just made it funnier...

"Uh... I'm sure I could, but-"

"Wonderful. I'll meet you there then. After we have a chance to file the necessary paperwork, we can make our way to the courthouse and keep our appointment at three this afternoon." Three? She'd called ahead? Ray thought a moment, and suddenly it made sense. She'd made the appointment, sent the telegram to arrive during her flight, just to make sure that if Fraser was around, he would meet her there and she could take care of this and go right back home. No nonsense, no fuss, no muss. She'd make Pitts damn proud, too.

"Um...sure." Wait a minute. Meet us? Oh, boy...

"Lovely. Oh, and by the way, I need to go over something with you before we get to court..."

Ray listened intently as she explained the rest of his life as it would happen that afternoon. So few words, and yet as they sank in further and further, Ray knew what he had to do. And after he got off the phone, he made his way into his Captain's office and cornered his boss, giving him strict instructions on what he was going to be doing for the next few hours and exactly what paperwork his boss was going to give him before he left for the courthouse. For once, his Captain was remarkably receptive. Ray just hoped Franny was up to the task of babysitting for a couple days next week...

~*~*~

"So, Detective, you are petitioning for temporary guardianship of one Benton Augustus Fraser?"

"Yes, your honor. As his father's partner, I'm the best man there is for finding him. If I do, little Ben goes with him. If I can't find him, or he is... unable to take care of his son, I will assume full responsibility for the child's welfare, or abide by whatever action this court feels is necessary." That didn't sound too badly rehearsed, but just then Ray didn't really care. This was for Fraser, and he didn't care what he had to do to make this right. Minnie had schooled him well if briefly on what to say, and the county building fiasco had been a real pain in the ass. He'd expected to have Minnie and little Ben, not Minnie and Minnie's assistant, Roger. But then, he also hadn't known about Benny being in the city already. Minnie had explained it has something to do with naturalization processing in regards to Fraser and the Consulate, but Ray was never good at that kind of political crap. All he knew was that this was his one and only shot to get this right, and he was not about to screw it up.

"Well, this is highly irregular, but I see from the paperwork before me that you have been assigned a permanent desk position in your office, working set hours, and you are seeing to the child's health and welfare needs. Also, given the question of citizenship, it would be wise to keep this child in the custody of a U.S. citizen until official custody can be established. I see no reason not to grant you temporary guardianship." Ray let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding, a grin working its way across his face...

Just in time to be washed away by a single bang of the judge's gavel. "I'm not finished, Mr. Kowalski."

Ray swallowed hard, getting his relief under control. For the moment. "Yes, Ma'am."

"If for any reason Constable Fraser is found unfit, either by lack of resource, lack of interest, or even death, as this case may be," Ray paled at that thought, but brushed it aside as she continued, "I will seek familial support for the child before I grant you permanent custody. Is that understood?" The thought of anyone else raising Fraser's child made Ray see far worse than red, but if anyone besides Fraser was going to do it, he would, come hell or high water. He nodded stiffly, not trusting his voice just then.

"Then this court is adjourned."

The bailiff opened the side door to the court, and in walked a small, familiar woman holding a small bassinet. She grinned up at him as the bassinet cooed softly. Franny positively squealed as she jogged forth to see what the heck Ray had just gotten himself into.

"Well, looks like this little guy is all yours." The little blue bundle didn't look big enough to hold a child, but then, this little guy wasn't too old yet.

"Looks like it." Ray took the blue bundle gently, and steeled himself to look down...

...into the face of what could not be mistaken as anything but the son of Constable Benton Fraser. Bright blue eyes opened suddenly and locked with his, the little brow furrowing as if Ray was being examined right there on the spot. He had no doubt that was indeed what little Benny was doing, just like his father would. His little nose crinkled just a touch, as if he were smelling the air around Ray, getting used to it. Oh boy, he was so not ready for this...

And then it happened. The tiny face before him broke into the most dazzling smile Ray had ever seen. A dizzying giggle bubbled from somewhere deep within his arms, and in that moment Ray knew that he would be damned if anything was going to happen to this little guy before he met his father.

Ray turned on his heel and made his way to the door. With a knowing smile, Franny gathered up his papers and followed him swiftly out of the courtroom, leaving a beaming Minnie behind.

The ride home was interesting indeed. The child seat given to him by the court liaison was a wreck, so Ray went to the store immediately and got two new seats, one for right then and one for when little Benny was bigger. He also got enough baby supplies for a month, making sure to get everything on the list Franny had given him. Damn it, if she wasn't thorough! She didn't even leave off the brand of formula and diapers to use!

After getting Benny settled back in the car, Ray turned on a soft musical CD Franny had given him as he wound his way through the streets of the Loop. Of course, cabbies were his biggest worry, but he also found himself not rushing in the slightest. He gave extra space around him, just to make sure nothing untoward happened, and he checked his rearview often to see little Benny crashed out in his seat. Ray marveled at how much this little guy had changed his life and his habits in the few hours they had known each other. Just like his father, Ray thought happily as he finally made it home.

Upstairs, Benny decided to wake up fussy, but Ray didn't mind. He did everything he knew to do, and soon Benny was a happy little camper, hanging out in his little bouncy rocker chair on the table, holding one of Ray's fingers in each tiny hand.

"All right, little man, as soon as I can swing it, we're going on a road trip to go see your Daddy. Want to see where you're Dad's from?" His words were met with a happy gurgle, one that made him look so much like Fraser that it made Ray's chest ache. Reality was finally setting in, hard. This was Fraser's child, and Ray had to make sure that this little guy got to know his father.

But what if Fraser really was...dead? He didn't like to think about it, but it was possible. Was that why no one wanted to give him any information about where he was? Was that what everyone at the Consulate was keeping from him? Ray sighed heavily, smiling into the face of this new life he now had to look after. If he never saw his old friend again, he would have this little bundle to take care of the rest of his life, and that would make up for it. Almost...

~*~*~

Fraser brought in another armful of wood, his shoulders aching from an afternoon of chopping. Diefenbaker was still outside, chasing squirrels and having a grand time on his own. Fraser was a bit glad of the fact that his companion did that. Though they would often go hiking through the woods, there were days when Fraser simply wasn't up to it. Not out of fatigue as such, but there were days that he simply didn't have it in him, even to go nature walking, something he'd always loved. Always.

That thought troubled him a bit as he stacked the wood next to the already crackling fireplace. Those days of mindless inactivity were getting more frequent. Several days in recent past he'd had great difficulty justifying leaving his bed. Though Diefenbaker had gotten his attention him with stomach-motivated whines, he'd never had to rely on such 'guilt' to remain active.

"Perhaps you need a new hobby, my boy." Fraser stopped mid-motion, unable to suppress a groan as he straightened to find his house changed a bit. No longer was it the modest though more than adequate living space he'd grown accustomed to, but a far more rustic, 'manly' area, complete with a bearskin rug strewn before the fireplace. A far more active fireplace, Fraser noted with little surprise. He looked to the large, wing-backed chair that stood atop that rug and to the man sitting in it, who happened to be gently smoking a dark wood pipe.

"Must you pick the worst possible times to show yourself, Father?"

"I suppose it is my punishment. It seems I am unable to help when you most need me, then at times when I am not as needed, I am able to come and go as I see fit." Fraser laughed dryly and without humor.

"Well, isn't that as true to life as one could hope any situation to be?"

Though unkind, his father paid his words no heed. "Benton, you cannot blame yourself for this. This situation was not your fault."

"Wasn't it? Was that gunman not aiming for me? Had I not been there, would he have taken aim? Would Ray have been able to escape unharmed? Regardless of it all, I was there, and I cost him his life." Ben held himself as slumped over as his father had ever seen him, which troubled Robert more than a little. Had he been given leave to see his son because there was no hope left?

"Benton, that is the nature of our work. I spent 30 years with the same man as my partner, so I do know how special that bond can be. But this kind of extended woolgathering is most unbecoming of a Royal Canadian Mounted Officer, not to mention a son of mine, and frankly I-"

"How can you possibly speak of things you could never know?!" Fraser was a different man in an instant, his face practically glowing hot in the firelight. "You chose not to be a part of my life, Father. After Mother died, you left me with your own parents because you would not be a parent for me. I don't know what I ever did to upset you so, but being born is not a crime I deem severe enough to warrant abandonment."

"I did no such thing! I was assigned my duties as were you, and to my best abilities I fulfilled them."

"By continually asking to be transferred away from your home? Oh yes, don't think I was unaware of your requests. It was something I discovered in the course of searching for your killer. Or was it truly your home at all, Robert? Was it home after she died and left you me? Was the wilderness a more comforting home to you than having to wander through the wilderness of your black heart to find some feeling for your own child?" The sound of his given name from his own son made him bristle, but his voice pitched low as he gave thanks for being incorporeal just then.

"You know nothing of my motivations, and I will not have you take that tone with me, boy."

"I don't want to know of your motivations, Robert. If I know, I may one day emulate them, as I did in joining the Royal Canadian Mounted Police instead of following the dream you never knew existed. I wanted to stay in Tuktoyaktuk and breed sled dogs for the rest of my days. The only part of that dream that still lives is Diefenbaker, who is now my only true friend."

His father pulled a face, one he reserved only for his moments of perfect smugness. "A dog as your only friend? You keep strange company, I think."

"If you are my only alternative, Robert, I will take my chances with my dog." Fraser threw another log on his father's fire, noting with some relish that the flames leapt momentarily from the hearth. His father bristled at the sudden interruption in his control of his own world.

"Well, then if that is your reasoning, I will be on my way, and I shan't bother you again." Instead of cowing to his father as he often did in these moments, Fraser stood and made the three long strides to the door in record time, stopping only to grasp the handle firmly.

"Then I wish I had known that years ago, Robert, because I would have sent you on long before rather than listen to your black-hearted lies about loving anyone but yourself."

"How dare you!" His father's face was red, and for a moment Fraser wondered if it was possible for a ghost to have an aneurism. But only a moment.

"How dare you leave your only son to anyone's hands but your own! How dare you judge me now when you would not even come out of the forest to see me leave all that I was behind to go to America, just to get the only person I ever truly cared for killed!"

"Benton-"

"No! Get out of my life! You never saw fit to be a part of it before, be no part of it now. Just go!" He threw open the door to the cabin...

...just in time for Diefenbaker to trot in from the cold, holding not one but two fat rabbits in his teeth. Benton watched transfixed as the wolf jogged nimbly to the workbench near the fire. Ben's own house appeared before his waking eyes, no trace of his father nor his father's cabin anywhere in sight.

~*~*~

The phone rang in the middle of dinner, of course, and Ray struggled for a moment as to whether he should answer it. Benny was just starting to fuss over not getting his bottle yet, and he'd finally managed to prepare one without spilling anything. Ray decided to sit down to hold Benny as he cradled the archaic handset on his shoulder.

"Kowalski Residence."

"Detective, this is Turnbull, from the Consulate?"

"What is it now, Turnbull? This really isn't the time for jokes- hey, now. No need to hurry. I won't take it from you, Benny."

"Benny? Constable Fraser is with you?"

"Not as such," Ray said as he adjusted his bottle-feeding technique to accommodate a phone. "What did you want, again? And as I said, no jokes."

"I assure you that this is no joke, Detective. I was able to procure Constable Fraser's transfer papers, but I must return them at once, so please listen carefully." Ray reached out instinctively to the coffee table and the pad of paper there on, miraculously not losing control of child, bottle, pen or balance in the process. I think I might be getting the hang of this fatherhood thing!

"I'm all ears, man."

"Good. There is a small outpost roughly a day's journey from Yellowknife. The outpost has no town name, and it is a one-man posting. Constable Fraser requested this post especially."

"Ok, where is it exactly?"

"You will need to go to Yellowknife. There you will meet Corporal Pierre Brue. If you mention Constable Fraser and a small inn, called 'Bjorn's Smith', he will be able to direct you to Constable Fraser's posting." Ray scribbled furiously, his chicken-scratch reaching a remarkable new low.

"Pierre Brue. Got it. All right, thanks, Turnbull."

"My pleasure, Detective. Please, find the Constable and send him my best regards. I must be going."

"Go, and thanks again." He hung up and refocused, shifting little Benny to sit up a bit as he finished the last of his bottle. Ray set the now empty bottle aside and smiled as he set to burping his partner's son.

"Well, looks like we finally got a destination, little man. Don't you worry," he said as he cradled the now fat little bundle gently in his arms. "We're going to find your Dad, no matter what it takes." And if it turns out he can't do right by you, so help me I will, little guy. He leaned down and kissed the down-covered head before lifting onto him onto his shoulder as little Benny giggled. And Ray knew then that he would never get tired of hearing that sound...

~*~*~

"Nellie, I can't thank you enough for watching little Benny tonight." Ray checked for a third time that all of Benny's things were in place and organized. Nellie sat in the large wooden rocking chair in the downstairs sitting room, holding the now sleeping little guy as she watched him fuss.

"Don't you worry about a thing. I'm more than happy to get a little practice before Francis and I have a few children of our own." She looked up at her husband, and Ray could almost swear he could hear the other man swallow.

"Well, we'll see, Nell. I'm still not too keen on the idea of another one of you running around."

"Oh, I don't know. I have a feeling that for my misspent youth, I will be blessed with a little boy who's just like you!" Her mirth was soft and light, and of course, Benny was oblivious. It had been a long, hard drive, and both Child and Driver were tired, but Ray didn't want to waste any time getting to Benton. After that fiasco at the border trying to get Benny across and having to call his boss just to confirm who they both were, Ray wasn't interested in anything else keeping him from his partner.

Just as he was ready to leave, Francis pulled him gently aside.

"If I may, Ray?" They worked their way into a small side parlor, where Francis's usually placid expression turned grave.

"Ray, you said you were Benton's partner in America, correct?"

"Yes."

"Benton told me something once that I think you need to know before you venture to see him." Ray leaned against a large wooden credenza, not sure at all where this was going but knowing he didn't like it so far. "He said that the reason he came home was because the best friend he'd ever known had been killed."

And it was then that Ray realized his heart really could skip a beat. "Killed?"

"Indeed."

Francis looked as if he'd known that reaction was coming, but Ray still reeled a moment, rocked by the mere implication. Had Ben truly been so close to his former partner? "But that can't be. Ray Vecchio was alive and well when I left."

"I do not know of this 'Ray Vecchio' you speak of, but I did know of you. You are the only American Benton ever spoke of." At Ray's suddenly stunned expression, Francis extended a hand to his shoulder. "Always remember that there is no accounting for the actions of the heartsick and mourning. Please keep that in mind." With that Francis was gone, and for a moment Ray stood there, considering all that this could mean...

~*~*~

As the hard running snowmobile ran through the afternoon snow, Ray thought of the only thing that had truly been on his mind besides one very bouncing baby boy: Fraser. He'd left, just when Ray needed him the most. Not only had he left, he'd gone back to a place in the middle of nowhere, where barely anyone even knew where he was, let alone where he'd been. Ray remembered vividly how it had been to wake up without his best friend beside him in that hospital room. He'd have given anything to see Fraser smiling down at him, telling him...anything! It wouldn't have mattered. He could have been yelling at him, scolding him for being too rash, scoffing at his still poor eating habits. Anything would have been better that the nothing Fraser had left in Ray's life.

And heart. Ray had known that not having Fraser around would be very difficult. They'd been good friends, or so Ray had thought. Ray didn't even realize how much Fraser had become a part of his every day routine until he'd finally made it back to his apartment. Aside from the thin layer of dust, everything was spotless. His mother had seen to that, of course, right down to cleaning his bathroom. But something was missing. Oh sure, all his stuff was there, nothing really out of place. And yet it was. It seemed empty, hollow, as if something important had gone missing.

And then the dream had come. The dream that had changed his life. After a single day and night alone for the first time in months, Ray had dreamed of his best friend, in a field of ice, so familiar that it could have been the very one they'd walked across together not so long ago. He'd watched in awe as Fraser stood there before him, only a few feet away, a smile so perfect on his face it could have been any day they'd ever spent together. Save one. He'd held out his arms, and Ray had run to them. As if his life depended on it, he'd run head long into the arms of the best friend he'd ever had. They tumbled down, laughing hysterically through hard back slaps and stiff-armed hugs.

But then the hugs became less stiff, the hard slaps becoming softer, stroking touches. Until at last he was lying almost completely on top of Fraser, his head pillowed just over his best friend's beating heart. Fraser had radiated heat like a furnace, warming Ray for what felt like the first time in his life. He'd been relaxed, contented and happy for the first time since the best of times during his marriage. Fraser's strong hands had held him, working his skin in a way Ray couldn't begin to explain, sending shivers all through him, just like Stella used to.

And that was when he'd woken up covered in sweat. His chest had been heaving, and he'd had one of the most raging erections he'd ever known. He'd reached down on instinct, trying somehow to relieve the immense pressure, but it had had the opposite effect. With a single touch he was lost, one hand wandering over his stomach lazily as the other went to work, stroking him to climax in what felt like record time.

A time that had still felt like an eternity, his groggy mind still caught in visions of Fraser, those gorgeous blue eyes, broad shoulders, his strong, supple hands. Hands that touched him... Ray had known his neighbors had heard him, but he hadn't care. His throat had become scratchy with the force of his screams before he'd come down off the high of orgasm. He didn't know he could get so hard, and from a dream!

A dream about Fraser. A dream about his best friend. His male best friend...

Ray poured on the speed, eager to see the one man who could give him any answers.

~*~*~

The knock came hard and fast to the heavy wooden door just as the stew was coming to a full simmer. Ben placed the pot cover in place, making all the necessary mental preparations for company for dinner. Obviously some hiker had gotten lost again, and needed help getting back to the inn. Dinner would just be a nice added bonus for the wayward traveler. He opened his door...

...and almost fell over completely. He stepped back, shock and fear mixing in a toxic brew that spread throughout his limbs as his heartbeat hit the roof. A thick blue parka and enough layers to cover Benton three times over didn't hide that face. Thin nose, full lips, blazing eyes. Dear Heaven, he'd finally lost his mind...

"Fraser-" It was all he could say. Deer in headlights looked less scared, but this deer was moving, and Ray knew better than to try and tangle with the Mountie physically.

"No! You're not real. This can't be happening..." Fraser backed away further, and all Ray could do was follow, and watch as his friend's eyes widened to empty black pools, his normally controlled hands shaking like leaves in the wind. He shut the door considering the cold, and let his coat drop to the floor. Diefenbaker was practically prancing over to meet him but, upon reaching his master and smelling the cacophony of emotions he was emitting, the wolf slunk back toward his bed, worried little whimpers following in his wake.

Ray looked back to Fraser, who was still backing away, right toward the fireplace, his hand still stretched out between them. On reflex Ray reached out, but Fraser moved like the beautiful, graceful big cat that he could be, right out of Ray's grasp and over his well-stuffed easy chair. Ok, so he was a very graceful, very clumsy big cat.

"Don't touch me!" He kicked feebly at the floor and the chair to regain his balance, but his eyes never left his partner's. Ray was at his side in a moment, Fraser shocked further still that Ray could actually move. Damned hallucinations, he thought haltingly as he tried to move away again, only to be cornered by his own chair. His rational mind fought for control, but by and large, it felt as though it had never lost control to begin with. He hunted for something tangible for his mind to latch onto, but Diefenbaker had already moved out of his field of vision. His father's house was bad enough, but now his dead partner as well? He shook his head miserably, fighting back the tears that stung at the back of his throat. Why can't I make this stop?

"Fraser, it's all right." All right? This was so far from all right, Fraser wasn't sure he'd ever be right again. And as he looked into the eyes that he'd known so well, he knew it was true. He'd never be all right again, not without Ray. The real Ray. Nothing was all right without him...

"No! You can't be real! You're..." All words left him as he choked back a sob. Fraser extended a weak hand to stave off this horrid hallucination, but Ray snatched up that hand and held it to his chest, just above his now racing heart.

"I'm right here, Frase. Feel that. Feel my heart. I'm right here, with you." Fraser froze as his hand was taken and pressed hard against warm flesh. Thin, bony fingers, but strong nonetheless. And that scent. The cologne he'd received for his birthday and the Cognac that Nellie kept at the Inn. And something else. Something Fraser had never been able to pin down, but that had always been Ray. Heaven help him, could it be true? By and by the Mountie's fingers bent, digging almost painfully into Ray's chest for purchase, his palm still flat and shaking against the pulsing skin.

"Ray...?" His head shook from side to side slowly, the gap between them growing again. Ray knew he was losing this fight, whatever it was, and he did the only thing he knew how: something drastic.

"Listen, Frase." In a flash Ray was upon him, gentle hands taking his face and drawing him close, one ear pressed where his hand had just been. The soft, even thump of his partner's heartbeat pulsed against his ear, echoing throughout his mind like a battering ram. "I'm here, Fraser. I'm right here."

And then the Mountie was undone, his arms wrapping tightly around Ray, holding on as if for dear life, hot tears streaming down his face. Damn it all, if this was a hallucination, he never wanted to be sane again. If sane meant alone, he'd let them lock him away and throw away the key. But then Ray's hands were on him, stroking gently through his hair and across his skin. He shuddered to the core of his being, reveling in the intimate touches and praying to every god he knew of that this could somehow be real. His whole body ached so much that at last it simply sagged, unable to hold it's grip on this wondrous delusion.

"Ray."

"I'm here, Fraser. It's all right now." For several moments they stayed just as they were, each rocking gently within the grasp of the other, Fraser curled into the embrace of his partner. His living partner. Ray...

"I thought you were dead."

"I was. I died twice on the table before they got me stable." Fraser looked up at him, the lump so heavy in his throat reaching up for his eyes again. "I spent six months in the hospital just trying to get strong enough to walk. It was a hard road, but I made it. I made it just so I could come here and see you again."

Fraser looked up at him, seeing the gamete of emotion he felt himself reflected in the eyes before him. "I thought I'd never see you again, Frase."

"As I did you, Ray." His head thumped again Ray's chest again, his senses engulfed in only his partner. Too long without contact with another human being. Too long without his partner. Fraser squeezed tightly, knowing his strength wasn't what it once was, knowing Ray could take the strain. He could take anything.

Ray reeled, his breath coming in only the short gasps Fraser's vice grip on his chest would allow, but gods it felt amazing. So warm. Warm like his dream had been. Warm and safe, and so real.

Ray pulled back a moment as his hands held Fraser's face like a priceless piece of art, staring down with an intensity that seemed to burn. Fraser blinked only once, and in that instant, his world turned on its head.

Fraser sat stunned as Ray's lips pressed against his own. His eyes stayed open, taking in in mild shock the wonder of Ray's face, so close, his scent so strong and heady, his taste... His tongue pressed forward, at last tasting what before had only been a fantasy...

Pure, radiant, iridescent, and yet utterly raw and unrefined. It was sweet-a rich, lush, natural sweetness-that melted warmly, gloriously into his soul. It spoke of serenity, of shelter and safety and assurance. It was a sanctuary of sublime peace, suffused with a balmy, copious sanctity, almost smothering in its thick, exuberant intensity. It was joy and it was pleasure, exalted beyond all known boundaries, elevated, glorified... an exhilarating resplendence, warm and sumptuous in its divine magnificence. It soothed; it assuaged. It eased and it mollified. It filled him, imbuing him totally, thoroughly, more than anything ever had in the whole of his existence...

And it was just enough to make Fraser pull back as if shocked.

"Ray..." Ray stared at him, shock and confusion and pain fighting behind his eyes. Fraser swallowed hard, his throat suddenly so dry without the life giving wetness of Ray's perfect kiss.

"I can't do this, Ray." Pain won out at last upon his partner's face, his own heart cracking at every seam.

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't do this. I'm not..." Ready yet. Strong enough. He'd meant to say that he wasn't even close to being able to open his heart again. Not even to Ray. Especially not to Ray. Not again, not so soon, not after...

"Oh. OH." Ray looked down at them both, realizing his sanguinary error as reality hit him in the face with a clue-by-four. His arms went numb just before they went slack. "Oh God."

"Ray-"

"No, it's fine, Frase. I'll see ya, I guess." The Mountie didn't understand what was happening until he heard the snowmobile motor roar to life outside. And then all he felt was cold. He looked, and the door to the cabin stood open, the snow falling lightly against the night. Alone...

He was on his feet just as Diefenbaker sprang to life at his side. The white wolf yelped freely as Fraser pulled the late model snowmobile out of the woodshed, dusting off the headlights.

"Think you can follow him in the dark, old friend?" A good stiff yelp was his answer, and he was silently thankful that he'd bothered to keep this little-used vehicle in working order. The engine roared, and Diefenbaker set out on the trail, Fraser fast on his heels. Ray's rear light could not be seen, but he knew his wolf would not let him down. Guide me, old friend. I won't let go of him again...

~*~*~

Fraser reached the tiny inn in what he knew was record time. He followed the fresh tracks to where Ray had parked his own snow mobile. The engine was still warm. Ray was here, and Fraser knew just how to find him.

The front door burst open, and as Nellie stood just inside the front foyer, Francis stood behind her, his newly retrieved shotgun in hand.

"Please, pardon my intrusion." Damn manners.

"Ben? What on earth-"

"Where is he, Nell?" Screw manners. And he just knew sometime later he would spend a good half an hour apologizing for interrupting her. And that would not include the front door. Or repairing it for them. Or... So, was she going to tell him soon?

"What's happened?"

"Please, Nellie, just tell me!" Yelling. Another apology session. He'd have to keep a laundry list.

"Upstairs, the master suite." He took the single step towards her and hugged her gently. Francis finally lowered the barrel of his gun as he reached out to touch Fraser's arm and squeeze, just once. Heaven bless them both, he thought as he bounded up the stairs. Diefenbaker stayed behind, lured by the faint scent of food.

"You haven't had dinner yet, have you, boy?" At the wolf's overly pathetic whine, Nellie led the way to the kitchen as Francis replaced the shotgun in the hall closet.

~*~*~

"Ray!" It only took one hard pound to the door before the latch released. The heavy wood swung open, and the look on ray's face was only partially what he'd expected.

"What are you trying to do, wake up everyone from here to town?" Town? Maybe Ray didn't know how far that really was... And why was Fraser actually trying to figure out how to explain this right now? He looked back to Ray, his face unchanged. Angry, surprised, hurt, and it as all his fault.

"Ray, please, you must listen to me." Gods, he hoped he didn't sound that desperate.

"If it'll get you to stop yelling, anything!" He stepped inside, and Ray shut the door almost silently despite his obvious irritation. Fraser took in the room, much as he had the first night he'd stayed at the inn a year before. Except that the linens had changed. And the open suitcase on the bed looked almost full.

"You're packing? But you've only just arrived."

"I'm going back to Chicago, where I belong. I won't bother you anymore, Frase. I'm sorry I got in your way here." For the second time that night, Fraser felt as if his stomach would fall completely away. He reached out on instinct alone, trying desperately to hold on to...something.

"Please, Ray, don't leave me now." Ray shrugged off his touch as he continued to stuff his suitcase, the sharp roll of his shoulder sending a cold burn through Fraser's hand. He was losing him. Did he ever have him to begin with?

"You've made it pretty clear that you don't want me around, let alone anything else." He stopped as the lid of the case swung over, but he made no move to zip it tight. So this was why Fraser had left. He didn't want him. He'd tried to escape. Ray turned to face Fraser for what felt like the first time, his eyes giving away nothing more than sheer resignation. "I won't come back, Fraser. I promise to leave you in peace."

"Believe me, peace was the last thing I had before you came. I thought you were dead, Ray. I thought-" he didn't know when he'd reached out again. All he knew was that Ray wasn't moving this time. He had the look of a man who accepted it all, knowing full well that the dream was about end. Fraser kneaded those strong shoulders in his hands, his blank mind filling with the pain he wanted so much to take away from those eyes. "I couldn't believe it when I opened my door and found you there."

Ray barked a laugh, one he knew Diefenbaker would be proud of. If he could hear. "I know, stupid, huh? Can't believe I did this. Same old stupid Stanly."

"No, Ray. It wasn't stupid." That touch. That touch that could part flower petals without breaking them or break bones. Or melt anyone he ever touched into his willing slave. Ray wasn't sure when the tear fell. All he knew was that Ben was wiping it away with the same quiet efficiently he applied to everything. Even to Ray.

"Frase?"

"Ben." Ray swallowed away the sudden lump in his throat. Or at least he tried. "Call me Ben, Ray. I want you to."

"Ben..." Those hands again, both of them, worked his neck muscles, pulling apart ever ounce of stress until Ray knew the only thing holding his head up was Ben. Ben... it sounded so human...

"I could never hurt you, Ray. I'm so sorry I drove you away." But he had. Fraser had hurt him. Fraser did drive him away, practically screaming into the night. So why was Ray leaning into that crazy soft touch, silently begging for more?

"I know. But I'm still confused on why you left in the first place." Their foreheads touched, their breath mingling into this thick, warm cloud. Surrounding them. Insulating them from the rest of the world.

"I was so lost for so long, and I never even knew. I spent so much of my life pushing people away, but you wouldn't ever let me. You leapt over the walls I'd built around myself and saw me for who I really was. You knew my secrets, but you never judged me. You knew my thoughts, but you didn't scorn, you only smiled. You put up with my eccentricities with a joy and humor I've never known before in anyone. I-"

"You thought I was going to use it against you or something, didn't you?"

"Something like that. I wasn't used to anyone being able to predict my movements, even my thoughts. It..." was the single most amazing thing anyone had accomplished in the history of mankind and I wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt to look at you and no one before you had ever even come close and it took me going to another country to find someone who could and then you looked at me like you knew everything I was thinking, even about you, and... "It... frightened me."

Ray looked more confused than anything, and it just made him that much more adorable. "But the longer I knew you, the more I knew that I could trust you. I came to...care for you...very much."

"That still doesn't tell me why you left." Yes it did, but Fraser knew better. He had to hear it. He had a rightto hear it.

"I left because I was afraid, Ray. I was afraid of losing you. I couldn't have that doctor come out of that operating room and tell me you were gone. I knew I'd never be able to stand it. Not when you had been-" His voice cracked a bit as his throat went dry, but he pressed on, knowing full well if he stopped he'd never get through any of this. Fraser looked away a moment, trying to remember to breathe. His voice sounded a mere whisper to his ears. "Shot... because of me."

"You couldn't have done any-"

"Why did you do it, Ray?" His voice was steadily rising, even as he still refused to meet Ray's eyes. "That bullet was meant for me! Why did you have to be so damned brave? Why couldn't you just let me protect you?!"

"Ben, please-"

"No, Ray, it wasn't right! I was the one he'd aimed for! I never wanted you to do that for me!"

"And if I hadn't, it would have been you on that operating table." The fear that ran along those words turned his head at last. "Do you think it would have been any different if it had been me worried sick about you, not knowing whether you were going to live or die? That's why I did it. I couldn't take that, Ben. I couldn't ever see you like that. I couldn't take it."

"I would rather it have been me than you. At least then I would have been able to save you from this pain." He reached out and ran a hand across Ray's shoulder, the thick scar detectable even beneath the shirt fabric. Tears stung in the back of Ben's throat as he fought to speak. "That's all I ever wanted. I just wanted to protect you, but I couldn't. I didn't." He choked, just once.

"I'm sorry, Ray. I'm so sorry."

"Ben, stop, please."

"I can't. I don't know how to stop caring about you, Ray."

"I don't mean that, you freak. Stop talking so loud." As if on cue, a noise was heard from the adjacent bedroom. Ray was on his feet and moving before Fraser could really register what was happening, but as he finally made it to his feet, he could hear Ray's voice softly from the next room. Fraser entered cautiously, pushing the door just far enough to enter.

"There now, little man. You're all right. Nothing to be afraid of. He didn't mean anything by it." Ray seemed a bit hunched over as he continued speaking. Fraser stepped inside, watching as Ray turned to reveal a fluffy blanket cradled in his arms.

"See? He's nothing to be scared of." A tiny whimper was heard from that blanket, and for a moment Fraser's heart stopped. A baby? Ray had brought an infant on this journey? What on earth was he thinking? But before he could speak, Ray approached him and reached out to place the tiny bundle in Fraser's arms. He met Ray's eyes a moment, deep sea green orbs shining as he had never seen them as Fraser gently took the child into his arms.

Warm. He hadn't expected something so small to be so warm. And he smelled amazing, like moonlight and homespun cloth. Fraser found himself rocking gently on his feet as the tiny mouth opened into the most adorable little yawn he'd ever seen. Large blue eyes opened wide to behold him, and suddenly he wanted to thank Ray for bringing this tiny being of joy into his life, even for a moment.

What was this feeling? Fraser had never felt this toward any other being so quickly nor completely, and yet in the flash of a thought, his mind and heart were awash with scenes of little boots and toy sleds, of birthdays and bedtime stories. All bundled together with the little face before him, smiling, laughing, calling him...Dad. His chest clenched a moment, his breath a slightly hitched gasp.

"He's beautiful, Ray." It was all he could think to say. Though Benton had been rather indifferent to children before, seeing this tiny bundle cradled so gently in Ray's arms had touched his heart more than anything he'd ever known. He couldn't hold in the shudder that ran through his body as the child was overtaken by a second yawn that seemed to engulf his tiny face. Ray took him back gently, murmuring something about a nap. He seemed so right holding this tiny life in his hands, protecting it. And Fraser ached to keep that tiny life close as well, to shelter and protect his existence, as his father had never done for him.

As Fraser had not protected Ray from one man with a gun. Fraser watched with a sinking heart as Ray placed the little child in his crib, that same soft cooing the only sound heard in the room. At last as the little one fell asleep, Ray and Fraser crept out of the room and shut the door gently. Ray switched on a baby monitor kept next to his bed, and soft breathing could be heard from the speaker.

"Whew. Usually he never wants to go to sleep, but once he's out, he's out for the night. Guess I lucked out on that aspect of things."

"Ray, pardon my ignorance, but what are you doing with an infant?"

"Funny you should mention that, Frase. He's not mine. He's yours." Fraser did an amazing double take. Simply amazing.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Sit down, Ben. This is gonna get rough." The Mountie froze in place, his gaze never leaving Ray's. Ray sighed heavily, bracing for the firestorm. "Victoria Metcalf is dead."

Fraser stared a moment, his left eye twitching almost imperceptibly. And then he moved at last, the only two steps he took toward the bed causing the blood to drain from his face as he moved to sit. And kept falling.

Ray was on him a second later, his arm clasped tight at his friend's waist as he guided him to the bed. "Whoa, there! Take it easy, Frase." Fraser draped a hand over Ray's shoulders gratefully, his head swimming violently even as his breath calmed. Dead. Victoria was dead. After everything, the pining and the lies and the endless nights wondering if he'd ever see her again, let alone hold her as part of him had still wished to until a year ago... And now she was gone.

He was vaguely aware of landing on the bed -sitting really wasn't the word for it- and Ray holding him upright. He could hear the voice of his partner even if he couldn't understand it, but the touch he could not escape. Light and moving and so warm. As warm as Ben had always imagined. More. So much more...

"I'm...all right."

"You sure?"

"Yes." Ray's hand continued to sweep gently down Fraser's back, guiding the Mountie's heart to a more even keel. He took a deep breath, and Ray's fingers were suddenly rubbing tiny, soothing circles into his shoulders. So warm, so very gentle. Ray had put himself through hell trying to get to this place, all for him. How could he be so cruel to someone so wonderful...? No. He could not think about that just yet.

"How?"

"She was found strangled to death four months ago. The doctors managed to save the little guy, but she was done for. According to his birth certificate, you're his father." Fraser looked up a moment, Ray's eyes mirroring his own in shock. But the pain was all his own.

"But, Ray, that's impossible. We never-" But they had. Memories of soft flesh and harsh punishment flashed across his mind, whole nights filled with much more pain than pleasure, but so much passion that it hazed together into a kind of gray noise he was not so certain now that he had ever truly enjoyed.

"I believe you, big guy, but you're still being given primary custody of this kid now that I've found you." She would do such a thing, as a last jab at him, even in death. Victoria. The worst experience of his entire life. And the greatest. Such an amazing woman, she'd captured his attention instantly. And kept it, even after he'd known what she truly was. But by then it was far too late. He'd been caught up in the web of her, a willing sacrifice to her every whim. It had taken his partner at the time shooting him to make him see any form of reason, but it had taken this man, this brooding, pulsating, barely contained man, to make him forget her, at least for a time. And now she'd returned to taint what he'd clung to as his one last hope. All in the form of an innocent child. A child she'd left abandoned, as she had him so long ago.

"How did you come by him?"

"Well, as your partner, I made it my business to find you. When news of the little guy got to me, I knew I had to find you just to make sure he met his father."

"What's his name?" Fraser sounded breathless, and it was all Ray could do not to reach out to him further. Not yet, he thought solemnly. Not just yet...

"His name is Benton." Fraser's heart leapt. Benton. As he had been named after his grandfather, so now his child bore that name... But this wasn't his child, he kept reminding himself, though the timing was nearly perfect. He had indeed slept with Victoria several times in their patchy relationship, he could not deny that, but he'd made certain to avoid fathering a child of hers. He had thought it rude to do such a thing to a lady without her permission, so he had studiously not touched her during certain times in her cycle, and he had monitored her oral medication to ensure that she was taking it properly, though she could have easily just gotten rid of them... No. Her last moon cycle had occurred just before he'd seen her last, so there was indeed no way that the child asleep in the next room was his. No matter how much he wanted it to be.

"But I'm not his father, Ray."

"Aren't you?" Fraser cringed, again terrified at how well Ray could read him. "Can you honestly say you didn't feel something for that little guy in there? I saw the way your eyes lit up, Fraser. You've been named this child's father. If you give up that right, who knows what's going to happen to him? Are you willing to let that happen?"

Damn him. Damn him for being right. "Ray...I want to take care of this child. You don't know how much I want to, but I can't. It's just not right."

"I don't understand. What happened to you, Fraser? You have the chance to make this child's life something special. And damn it, if you don't, I will!" That familiar spark lit behind Ray's eyes. And in Ben's groin. Of all the times to think about... wait. What was that again?

"What are you talking about?"

"I've already been given temporary custody of Benny until you were found. If the Child Welfare Court finds you unfit, they're considering me for adoption." Fraser blinked owlishly.

"You didn't even know for certain that this child was mine, and you did this?"

"I did the only thing I could think of, for him and for me." Ray looked away a moment, his formerly knowing gaze left in harsh uncertainty, his jaw tight as he spoke. "I needed to get you back, Ben. I didn't care what it took, what I had to do, but no one knew anything about where you'd gone or what happened." And I was not about to leave it at that, you insane Mountie freak. "I was afraid I'd never find you when I found out about little Benny. He needed me, he needed to be looked after. And he looked so much like you, Frase. Bright blue eyes, a smile that would make the sun jealous. I was so sure he was yours. And if raising your son was the only piece of you I was ever allowed to have again, I'd take it."

Fraser beheld Ray a moment in simple awe. "You would do that? Even if you never found me..."

"You better believe it, but we can't think about that now. We're both here, and little Benny needs us." He swallowed hard, steeling himself as his words spilled forth as if on their own. "He needs you."

"And I'm going to be there, Ray. For both of you." The corners of Ray's delicious mouth turned up just a touch. As did the heat in Ben's body.

"Great. Greatness, Fr-Ben."

"And I do mean that, Ray." The smile waned.

"Let's not do this again, ok? Just forget it ever happened." Ray backed away just enough to leave a cold void where he'd been.

"What do you mean? Were you not serious when you approached me?"

"Haven't heard it put that way before, but yeah I was. And I could see how serious you were about not letting that happen, so let's just drop it, ok?" It was Fraser's turn to move, right back into Ray's personal space. He took those thin, strong hands in his, massaging each finger in turn without thinking.

"I'm so sorry, Ray. I never meant to hurt you, but you caught me by surprise. I had just spent the last year beating myself senseless inside for what happened to you. And it wasn't just because you were my partner. It was more than just blaming myself for your death."

Ray flinched at the reference. "Death? Geez, Benton."

"Repeating myself, I thought you were dead, and I knew it had been my fault, again." Ray's fingers worked within Fraser's, that silent strength making him shiver all over. Like it always did.

"Again?"

"Yes. It seems that no matter what I do, the people I care about end up hurt because of me. The more I care, the more harm comes to them. I-" Love you. Gods help him, how could he make Ray understand that after what he'd just done? He pushed that regret aside a moment, opting to mend one fence at a time. "I cared for you so much, and all the time I've spent here, I thought it was because of my feelings that you were hurt."

"How could you think that?" This isn't just about her anymore, is it, Ben? Who else hurt you so badly that you'd think something that nuts? "Ben, that isn't true. There are lots of people who care about you, and nothing bad's ever happened to 'em."

"That may be, but it was when I came to care for them that those dearest to me were hurt. I thought my caring for you had caused your death." He brought those fingers to his lips, warming them, letting them warm him. "And then there you were, on my doorstep, as real as anything I'd ever seen, and I couldn't believe it. I thought I'd gone totally mad."

"I figured there was a good reason why you freaked out on me back there." Again that slightly crooked smile, the one that made his face light with mischief... and glow like the morning sun.

"Indeed. It was like being forgiven for everything I'd ever done that was wrong. I can't explain how much I didn't want to ever let you go again. And then you kissed me, and before my eyes was everything I'd ever wanted, and it was-" Like coming home. Something hard and aching welled in him chest, weighing him down almost to the point of bending his very soul. "It was so much more than I could ever hope for. Too much."

"Ben, I... I never knew."

"I never meant for you to know, and yet now here you are, and you came all the way here just to talk some sense into me. You, who is by far my dearest friend. The greatest man I've ever known. I can't lose you again." Even if all he'd managed to do before was run. But that was before he'd known that Ray had lived, survived this travesty. And now Ben had his second chance, this time that he'd always wanted. He would not waste this chance again.

"You're talking about a lot more than bein' friends, Fra- Ben."

"Not really, not from where I'm sitting." And from where he sat, Ben could smell the arousal Ray raked over in him. But was it just his anymore? "Above all, you will always be my friend, Ray. You are the dearest friend I have ever known. I will always be your friend, no matter how many times you hit me, no matter what we say to each other, no matter what happens." And suddenly those strong hands were moving, across his hands and up his arms and over his shoulders, just enough to bring Ben close enough to breathe him in again. Cedar, wood smoke, pleasure. Good Gods, this was so crazed. So perfect. So them...

Fraser moved Ray gently to face away from him, and though Ray wasn't thrilled, the feel of Ben's hands moving over him was enough to keep him still.

"Ben, do you know what you're saying?" His voice was barely a whisper. Those big hands moved over his chest, finally settling on the buttons of his shirt as warm breath met Ray's ears and the first buttons on his shirt popped open.

"Yes. I'm saying that I'm glad you came here and did what I never could, said what I could never say, all because I was too afraid to." Fraser slipped gently beneath the shirt fabric as the last of the buttons gave way. Warm silk met his touch beneath the cottony shirt fabric, his hands shaking as they moved through the sea of fine chestnut hair, across plane after plane of hard muscle covered in supple flesh.

"Ben-" The shirt slipped over his shoulders, and Ray shrugged it away with a little help. Then Ben's hands couldn't keep away, moving across that amazing flesh again uninhibited. He watched transfixed as the gentle tan blushed beneath his hands, shivering gently, and for a moment Fraser feared Ray might be having second thoughts.

"I need to do this, Ray. Please." It wasn't so much a demand as it was a plea, and again Ray shivered, unable to control himself as a soft moan escaped his lips.

"Please," he breathed against Ray's now bared shoulder. Ray lolled his head to the side, giving Ben all the access he wanted. He reached up and grasped the steel corded forearms as those strong hands ghosted across his skin. He could feel the hesitation in that touch, the fear. How he wanted to tell Ben it would be all right again, but he knew better. This had driven them apart in a way he'd never before imagined possible, and all he could do was wait and see what Ben would do as his partner's breath came in hitched little gasps. He swallowed hard, trying to remember to breathe himself as sweet Ben Breath trailed across his neck and down between his shoulders, right towards...

"My Gods." Though the skin had been resewn quite well and had healed completely, Benton could still appreciate well the damage the flesh had experienced. Flashes of blood raced across his mind as a single finger traced the angry pink scar, his other hand reaching around reflexively to cover the entry wound atop Ray's chest, just over his heart. His beating heart.

"B-Ben?"

"I'm here, Ray," he whispered, using Ray's own words to sooth his partner as they had done for him, "and this time, I'm not going anywhere." Because he was right where he belonged. So much of the time he'd spent alone he'd thought of Ray, and all that he'd wanted to say and do. But each time he knew why he'd never acted, never done anything to let Ray closer. Victoria, that heartless bitch, had done more damage than Ben had let himself see. His instincts had adapted, as they usually did, to prevent harm, even if the threat of harm didn't exist. Better safe, he'd always thought. But this, this wasn't the same. This was safety. This was... His nose brushed against the angry scar, rough skin grazing his cheek as he kissed the healed wound. So much pain... But why did it smell so good? Why did it taste so good? He didn't realize he'd even reached out to gently lick the torn flesh until the gasp reached his ears. Whose it was he couldn't be sure, but he knew his senses did not lie. He could smell the mild sweat, the...heady arousal all around him, and not just his own. No pain, no regret, only... joy. Sweet, flawless joy.

His fears shifting into something more tolerable, Ben pressed himself against his dear friend, his mouth covering the now healed wound completely as he held Ray tight. A single hand reached back, familiar fingers sinking into Ben's hair on a gasp.

Ray bit his lip to keep from screaming. Who knew his scar would be such an erogenous zone? Ben did, obviously. Of course he did, Ray thought as one finger grazed his nipple, he knows everything. Like how...

"Oh!" Ray's lungs filled suddenly as one of Ben's nails caught his navel. Suddenly his thumb was circling it oh so slowly as Ben's lips tasted the unheard whimpers across the columns of Ray's smooth throat. The soft wool of Ben's shirt pressed into his bare back as he tried to pull Ben closer.

"Ben..." Ben leaned into that demanding hand in his hair, hot sparkles racing across his skin, everywhere Ray touched. "Your shirt..."

"Certainly." He took his hands back to remove the offensive garment when suddenly Ray was facing him, his own hands aiding in the struggle against fine-spun wool.

"Let me." Fraser raised his arms, and in a moment the sweater he'd worn was gone, lost somewhere on the floor as Ray's hands danced across his skin, soft lips finding the pulse point at his throat as he wrapped Ray tight in his arms. Sharp little teeth and warm tongue worked gently the tender spot where shoulder met neck. "I missed you so much, Ben," he hissed out between loving little bites and soft, lazy licks. Gods he tasted amazing, like...like everything wonderful Ray had ever known. Like Christmas morning. Like springtime. Like... pleasure. And suddenly Ben's fingers dug into his neck, pulling him close and pushing him away all at once.

"As I missed you, oh yes, Ray, right there!" It sounded like madness given life, a cry just this side of pain.

"Shhhh..." Rays' lips worked their way gently to his ear, a barely muted groan resonating through the room as chest met chest, strong arms holding tight to one another.

"We have to keep it down, Ben. The baby's not deaf, you know." Ben smiled a moment, then dropped the two of them completely down onto the bed, his much larger body covering Ray's with ease. He held himself up by a knee and an elbow to take in the playfully shocked expression on his companion's face.

"Then I suggest you keep quiet, Ray." With a feral grin Ray was upon him again, smooth skin and gentle sending his senses spinning. The inability to moan only made this harder. Ray was sending shooting stars through his skin, and Ben needed him to see what he was doing. But then Ray was whimpering into his mouth, sweet and open and tempting, and Ben could feel control slipping through his fingers like water. Then Ray's tongue brushed against his, and he wondered why it ever mattered.

Their kiss was soft and slow and tasted like they were melting together. Victoria had always loved this, but she'd made him do more. Ray didn't demand of him. He arched and swayed, moving with and not against Ben's mouth, his hard body molding in his hands. Ben marveled at how easy it had been to adjust to Ray's amazing body. Flat and hard where he was used to soft curves, firm in ways no one had a right to be, but Ben's hands seemed to know just what to do to wring the tiniest sounds from that gorgeous body.

Ray broke away gently, his need to wander getting the better of him despite the sweet, heady Ben flavor he was leaving behind. He'd be back, but for the moment he simply flipped Fraser onto his back, a soft grunt escaping him. Ray worked his way across Ben's jaw, slight stubble tickling his lips and making the tiny vibrations of his moans that much more intense. Ben's hands were everywhere, but Ray could only watch in awe as a single swallow took his adam's apple the entire length of that long, beautiful throat. A throat he just had to get another taste of.

"Ray." It came out as more of a gasp than Ben had hoped for, but he was so far beyond caring it barely registered. Where the hell had he learned to do that? Lips and teeth and tongue and oh Gods, this silence rule was so unfair!

"I love the way you say my name." Ray settled on his ear, which made him shudder. And that just made Ray hold him tighter. He didn't know whether it was to comfort or just to feel the shivers better, maybe both, but suddenly he needed to know what Ray thought was happening, because this was just too much...

Ben knew this was a risk, a risk he'd sworn he'd take if given the chance, but was that so smart? Risks were all about thoughtlessness and willful negligence. This was... it wasn't a risk, not really. It was much more serious than a mere risk. This was about them, and how Ray kept waiting, letting him make the next move, letting him give the directions, set the pace, never demanding, letting Ben give just as much as he wanted, no more.

Ben made this insane, needy little sound. He could feel Ray smile against him, but he knew that sound well. It was what he'd always sounded like at night in his bed back in Chicago. That horrid little cot in the Consulate, all alone except for Diefenbaker, curled up in the middle of a fantasy. Yes, he'd made that same noise, running his hands shamelessly over his body the way he'd always wanted Ray to, wrapping his arms around himself and begging for just a touch of the warmth he knew Ray would smother him in. This was so much easier when he knew it could never happen. When it was just an idle notion to satisfy his body and quiet his mind when he couldn't sleep at night. Every night.

Ray licked a wet trail across Ben's chest, settling on one nipple. He danced over the rigged flesh, letting his breath cool the skin even as his lips warmed it. The mixture of sensations had Ben moaning again in seconds.

"Keep it down, Ben," Ray chided with a grin as he moved to the other side. Ben tried so hard not to, but as soon as Ray captured his other nipple, his mouth fell open on a gasp he couldn't begin to stop. Ray slipped a hand down to caress his navel as he flicked the sweet hard flesh with his tongue again and again. Ben's hips started moving in time with his hand, sending his fingers further and further southward. Ray brushed that obvious bulge while rubbing his own against Ben's thigh...

And the next thing he knew he was on his back, Ben's erection snuggled tight against his own, his mouth flooded with his partner's nimble tongue.

Ben hands couldn't stop moving, almost frantic in their pursuit of more. More contact, more skin to grasp, more Ray. And clothes were getting in the way far too often. He fumbled with both their pants, buttons and zippers and cloth that simply wasn't moving. Ray pushed down gently even as Ben reluctantly released his lips to gasp for air. He set himself up on his knees a moment, and managed to keep perfect balance as he shimmied - there was no other word for it, the Mountie shimmied- out of both his pants and boxers. Ray followed suit, glad of Ben's help in slipping his jeans down his legs and off the bed.

Then Ben was on him again, his kiss all teeth and tongue and bad angles as he pressed himself into Ray, almost as if trying to merge them, body and soul.

Ray broke the kiss a moment, staring into the almost black eyes of his lover. He pulled Ben into a tight embrace, his own last fear itching at his thoughts as he tried so hard to catch his breath.

"Tell me what you want, Ben. What can I do? What do you need?"

"You," he whispered into the glowing flesh all around him, his hands reaching down to grip Ray anywhere he could reach. Real. He has to be. This has to be... "I need you."

"You have me. You'll always have me, Ben." He took the Mountie's face in his hands, forcing the wild gaze to focus, even for just a moment. "This isn't a dream, and I'm not going to disappear, sweetheart." Recognition flashed across the hazy black eyes before him, and suddenly Ray was held so tight he could barely breathe. He reeled against the profound pleasure of simple contact, every muscle in Fraser's body seeming taught with pure animal energy, thick, corded strength beneath perfect, smooth skin. Too little skin. Ben was thinner than Ray remembered, his hand grazing rib after rib down Ben's side. Ray clutched his lover closer, sending up a silent prayer that nothing so awful would tear them apart again. And then Ben got the angle atop him just right, and Ray's only conscious thought was answering that perfect thrust, giving and taking every ounce of pleasure he could stand.

Gasping, almost silent breath raced across his ear, and all Ray could do was answer it with his own, caught in the amazing rhythm that Fraser surrounded him in, the riptide of his own pleasure pulling him further under.

Tears burned wild behind Ben's eyes as his jaw clenched tight, harsh groans lost within him as their bodies glistened with sweat and rapture. He watched transfixed as Ray almost bit his lip bloody, shuddering beneath him, a ragged whimper trying so hard to escape. Ben captured those sweet lips, and Ray arched helplessly into the kiss, feeling every movement as needing as his own as lean thighs held him fast and strong fingers grasped for purchase. This was his. His to take, his to enjoy, his to cherish, as was his right. And didn't he have the right to be happy? Didn't he have the right to feel this...rapture? This joy? Ray...

Ray moved him suddenly, and he was only too glad to pull Ray atop him. Their bodies touched as much as any two could, Ben supporting Ray's slender form completely. Their lips met again gently, tenderly, and Ray reached into the heart of him, pulling forth moan after shuddering moan. Their tongues touched gently, stroking in time to their shared breath, their shared heartbeat. A soul kiss.

That same scent he'd come to know so well met his senses and yet felt so new. So thick and heady it made Ben dizzy, but that didn't stop him from diving into that perfect scent, feeling surrounded by it. By Ray. Ray, atop him, so warm and hard and pulsing. Or was that just him? Was it both? Was this too much to be a dream? Would he dream of anything else for the rest of his life?

And then their cocks caught between them again, rubbing, sliding across sweat and slick pre-cum and hard muscle and Ben's head fell back on a groan he couldn't hope to control. So perfect. Smooth and hard and slick and perfect friction and-

And suddenly he was afraid. He could feel himself giving in, letting go, and he still wasn't sure he wouldn't regret it, even just a little. He'd done that before, and even now her laughter haunted the back of his thoughts. And suddenly it was that evil woman all over again, taking him to that wonderful place, that place where he would do anything for more of...this. Scars. Pain. Anything. He gripped Ray's straining arms, pushing and pulling and trying so hard to make it all just-just- "No..."

"Benton." Everything stopped. The movement, the rush, as if the eye of this flesh hurricane was sitting squarely above him. Above them. His eyes shot open, Ray's boring into his with an intensity that scorched.

Ray touched his face so softly, Ben thought he'd imagined it. But then it happened again. And again, and then it was everywhere, across his cheek and nose and through his hair and down his neck and dear Gods, Ray... "I've got you, Benny. I promise I do."

"I know. I know." But he didn't. He squirmed, not knowing what he wanted to have happen. He wanted to know he could let this happen, but he didn't, not for sure. Felt so good, but hurt so much. It felt like his insides were tearing apart. He wanted this to be true, to be right, and it felt so close..." Ray..." Help me. Please, just help me.

"Look at me, Ben." He did, and it hit him. Hit him like a hammer to glass. The reason losing control hurt so badly was because he didn't want it to begin with. He wanted Ray to take that control from him. He wanted to let it go, He wanted to be just like this. Beneath, controlled, conquered by someone he trusted with his heart as much as his life. He wanted everything Ray had to give, if for no other reason than to be claimed, branded as his. "I won't ever hurt you. I'm not letting go."

He began moving again, working them back into their bygone rhythm. Ben moved with him, rushing him, bombarding him with one harsh thrust after another...

And for a moment Ray couldn't understand what he was seeing. Ben, super-controlled, hyper-focused Constable Benton Fraser of the RCMP, panting like an animal and whimpering like his wolf. His harsh breath stilled as his eyes squeezed shut, his whole body jerked, and in that instant Ray could have sworn he was going straight to hell for making anyone as pure and wonderful as Ben do something this insane. Ray had never seen Ben cry before tonight. He'd never seen Ben cum before at all. And he'd never, ever seen anyone cry when they came. Warm and thick and violent, the cum shot over Ben's chest as joyous, terrified whimpers shuddered from between clenched teeth.

And then Ray surrounded him, licking away each and every tear, holding tight as his best friend's chest heaved again and again. The taste was more intense than it ever had a right to be, and his body shattered his mind, leaving only what little soul he'd ever had raw, exposed, free. He was free, and he was Ben's. Partner. Lover. Benton...

But then he looked again upon the face of his lover, and his rapture dropped away. He drug himself up Ben's body to his face, still covered in tears. Oh gods, what had he done? What the hell had he just done?!

Ben clung as tight as his exhausted limbs would allow, legs tangling, arms trying to find somewhere to be that they didn't have to work for. And all Ray could do was keep kissing him. Loving him. Apologizing.

I'm so sorry, Ben. I didn't mean to hurt you. I never meant to, but you were just so... "So beautiful..."

"I've never...before, I didn't..." Ben knew he was babbling, but it didn't matter. He looked up into the eyes of this man, the only lover he'd ever truly known, and he knew it didn't matter. It didn't matter because this was right. This was safety. He clutched Ray to him, burying himself in flesh and sweat and heaven. This was what it felt like to be found.

And Ray understood. Ben wasn't afraid of him, he was afraid of this. Of being exposed, of being used. Of being loved. What he wouldn't give to make that bitch pay for doing this to him... But it didn't matter, not anymore. All that mattered was Ben, and making this the first night of a lifetime of nights and days and everything either of them had ever looked for and never found.

"Shhh. It's ok." And it was. For the first time in his whole life, Ben knew it was ok. Ok to be afraid, ok to let go, and ok to let just one person close enough to see him. To really see him. And the last thing he heard before exhaustion finally took him was the one voice he'd feared he would never hear again.

"I'm here, sweetheart."

~*~*~

Fraser awoke slowly to the rather unfamiliar feeling of warmth. Usually his cabin was quite cool of a morning, especially after the fire had died in the night. But not today. Was it day yet? It was winter, one couldn't be sure. It would still be dark until closer to midday. Ray never did like that aspect of things...

Ray...?

The events of the night came to him in a rush of tears and skin and tiny giggles. Ben moved one hand and trembled as thick quit and smooth skin met his touch. A low 'hurrumph' was heard as the body next to him shifted, burrowing into his shoulder as the arm draped across his chest held tight. Ray! It hadn't been a dream! Which meant the child was there as well. Should he check on him? He didn't want to disturb Ray. The monitor was still on, and silent. Nothing to worry about, right? Should he even be taking care of this child? It wasn't even his! Or was it?

Ben closed his eyes a moment, listening to his lover breathe softly. Ray would know what to do. He seemed to know everything tonight. Ben carded gently through the wild mane of hair as a deep sigh escaped his partner.

"Ray?" The soft voice brought him out of sleep, and he smiled into the tangle of flesh around him.

"Right, here, Benny." So it wasn't a dream after all. Fraser smiled as he pulled Ray that much closer.

"You do realize that eventually it will come out that he's not my son." Back to business, Ray thought with a smile. He definitely had to get this guy to loosen up more often.

"That matters?" Ben's head rose a moment, his eyes meeting Ray's gaze, lazy and open.

"You don't think the boy's real father has a right to know?"

"I don't think it's about who his real father is anymore, Ben." Strong fingers swept through his hair, sending gentle sparkles across his scalp once more. "It's about the best man for the job, and that's you, hands down."

"And you don't think he has a right to know who his real father is?" Ben sighed deeply as he leaned into Ray's touch. He could get very used to waking up like this.

"One day he'll need to know, sure. But for now, you're his father, and that's the most important thing."

Fraser pushed himself up onto one elbow and stared down a moment at his partner. Ray looked positively replete, and happier than Ben could ever remember seeing him. To think I was responsible for that smile...

"And what part will you play in all this?" he asked as he absently played with one nipple. Ray sighed, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the moment, however long it might last.

"Whatever part you'll let me, Ben."

"Well, you'll have to start calling the boy 'Benny' and me 'Ben' all the time then, just so I know who you're talking about. Otherwise, it could make everyday life a little confusing." Ray's eyes shot wide suddenly, and Ben couldn't hold in a grin as Ray searched his eyes. Certainty was slow in coming at first, and at that moment Ben knew it would be an uphill climb earning back his partner's trust as it once had been.

"Everyday?"

"For the rest of my life, Stanley Raymond Kowalski. I thought I'd lost you once. I'm not going to lose you again. Not ever."

"You'll never lose me, you freak. I love you too much." There was an infinite pause, an endless moment of pure clarity, total illumination, where a profound and intensive truth passed wordlessly between their frozen, interlocking stares. A finality, and he could actually feel the last wall Victoria had created within him crumble into dust.

"I love you, too, Ray. My God, I love you so much!" Ray was tackled by the kiss, passionate, deep and so lovely. They only came out of it when breathing became imperative again.

"I promise I'll take care of you. You and Benny both. I won't let anything ever happen to you again." Ray grinned stupidly, the lack of oxygen making him almost as dizzy as the kiss had.

"Well then, I guess there's only one problem left."

"What?"

"Figuring out if you want to stay in Canada or come back to Chicago." Ben brought Ray back in and kissed him, as soft and slow as his racing heart would allow. But the passion between them would not be ignored, and soon those soft touches became more demanding, their bodies coming together for the sake of purest pleasure. And as Ben drifted off to sleep some time later, sated, he hugged his beloved close against him. It would be a hard road, but every step, for good or ill, would be worth it if this was his reward...

~*~*~

Hours later, Ben watched his lover sleep. Curled into his chest, Ray looked so peaceful, so replete. Soft breath moved against Ben's chest, his fingers running through Ray's hair of their own accord. It was a bit longer, and not soaked in that infuriating gel that always made his hair so hard and stiff. This was so different, soft, lush, and so luxurious that Ben simply could not resist touching it. Touching him. His lover. His love. "Le sommeil bien, mon trsor." He found it almost odd that he reverted to his native tongue in such moments, but he didn't care just then.

He smelled it far before he heard anything. The soft, gentle wisp of cedar and pipe smoke, of burning wood and hard work. He closed his eyes, smiling as a single hand gently took his shoulder.

"Well done, my Son. Well done." He reached up to touch that hand, not caring when his own passed right through.

"Thank you, Father." And if there was hope enough in the world that Ray could actually love him, perhaps his father was still worth one more try, if only for the sake of his son. His son, Ray's son. Victoria be damned, he would make this whole thing work. Ben smiled wider as he drifted off to sleep. A family in the making...

~*~*~

Not that I would presume to question You, Lord, but did You have to get Ray shot in order to show me this? I admit to being stubborn, but did he have to be hurt so?

Oh, well. He's fine now. He may never sing in the shower the same way again, but perhaps that is for the best. I once envied Dief for not being able to hear him during these sessions, but I didn't mind enough to say anything. Now, I don't mind at all. Anything to know that he's still with me, still alive, and still around so I can show him that he's succeeded. He's shown me what he was meant to. And I thank my creator every day that I was given the chance to feel this, and to give this feeling in return.

Now we have this tiny life to care for, and I wonder if I will make the fatherly mistakes I was forced to live through so long ago. But I doubt it. I honestly don't think Ray would ever let me do anything of the kind. He's such a wonderful father. What does that make me? It makes me the happiest man alive, and for me, that's all I care about./ Aside from the two of them, of course...