Disclaimer: Not mine, never were and never will be.

Author's Notes: Written for ds_harlequin

Big Yellow Taxi By sam80853

I won't let her influence my future, no, I won't. I'll take a cab, go to the airport and back to Arizona where my parents live, and Lily. I'm done with Stella and Chicago.

File it, dot it, stick it in a box marked done!

"Taxi!"

I reach the stopping car at the same time as another passenger and I'm about to fight for my ride because I was here first and all but the guy just holds the door open, looking apologizing at me with deep blue eyes.

"I'm truly sorry, Sir," he says, gesturing for me to get in the car; he even tips that ridiculous hat of his. "I'm certain to catch another vehicle."

I should be annoyed by his tone of voice, by his whole apologizing attitude, but I'm not, I'm staring at him, probably open-mouthed, because nobody offers a cab to someone else. You just push anybody aside and take what's yours to begin with.

I look some more, taking everything in, detect because that's what I do, I'm a Detective, I detect.

The man is the same height as me but his posture is ramrod straight so he seems to have a few inches on me, soft-locking leather jacket with a flannel shirt underneath, worn-out blue jeans, hiking boots and, not to forget, his huge hat.

But with all the confidence he's radiating he seems to be out of place like he's way out of his element and something deep down in my stomach flips.

"Where to," I ask, my voice unusually gentle like a harsh word from me and he would turn off running.

"Pardon me?"

He's still holding the door, looking confused now like I'm speaking in Polish.

"Look," I roll on my heels, patience never was my strong suit and I wanna get away from here as soon as possible, "maybe we are going the same way, we could share."

"That would be the environment-friendly thing to do," he says, looking pleased with my suggestion.

Huh?

"The clock is ticking," comes the cab-drivers annoyed voice from the inside of the car and I wanna pop him one because we have a discussion here and interrupting is just rude.

"My apologies," the guy says again and I'm wondering if he really is that polite or it's just a thing he does, "I'm on my way to O'Hare International Airport and ..."

"Same way," I interrupt. "Hop in!"

And he does, get in that is, after he puts his duffle bag in the trunk.

I somehow have thought that he might argue the point but he just climbs into the car, making room for me.

"I thank you kindly," he says as soon as the cab gets away from the curb, his hat balancing on his knees.

"Never mind," I grin, offering my hand, "I'm Ray, Ray Kowalski."

"Benton Fraser," he shakes my hand, "It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Kowalski," and hearing him say my name like that seems all kinds of wrong.

"Just Ray."

"Ray," he asks, eyebrow lifting.

"That's my name, Ray. You never heard about first names?" I tease lightly, somehow sensing that he wouldn't be offended by my mocking tone.

"Certainly," he smiles. "Ray."

"That's settled then," I say, leaning back, our shoulders touching and for just two guys in a cab there is surprisingly little space. But Fraser doesn't seem to mind, so I get comfortable, taking in the heat he's radiating.

Silence falls but it's nice to see Chicago pass by outside the window and feel Fraser nearby. It's like I'm protected by his presence and how ridiculous is that? I don't need any protection, I'm a cop, and expecting someone you just met to take your side in anything is just d u m dumb.

We arrive much too soon at the airport and I feel a loss as soon as Fraser is out of the cab, paying half his share with some colourful money he takes out of his hat.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Ray," Fraser shakes my hand in farewell. "Have a nice journey," and with those words he lets go of me, walking away towards the entrance.

I'm two steps behind Fraser, seeing him walk away from me makes my heart ache.

"Hey, Fraser," I call. "Wait up!"

He stops and turns then, looking expectantly like he doesn't want to part either.

"Wanna have a cup of coffee?"

"I'm afraid, I don't drink coffee, Ray," he smiles, getting into step beside me.

"Tea then," I grin. "Let's check in and meet at Starbucks."

~::~::~

I am not certain what motivated me to take something to drink with a stranger but Ray's invitation came so heartfelt, I'm just not able to reject him.

It's kind of miraculous anyway to meet someone nice - I'm somehow certain Ray would be offended by my thoughts but I can't help but enjoy his easily offered friendship, even if it's just for a few hours at the airport, in a foreign country.

I arrive at Starbucks half an hour later, watching out for a spiky blond-haired head.

Ray's sitting in the corner far to the left, his head bent over what seems like documents, his brow furrowed and I'm about to leave him to his reading when he lifts his head, looking directly at me, smiling.

The corners of my mouth lift on their own account and I helplessly gesture that I will be right with him, I will just order my tea.

With my cup of tea in hand, I join Ray on his table.

"Hello Ray," I greet him rather sheepishly.

"Hey," he grins, taking his papers away.

"No, Ray, please," I say, "If you have work to do, I ..."

"Nah," he interrupts, pointing at his documents. "It's a done deal. Divorce papers."

"Oh," I'm somehow shocked that someone would divorce a man like Ray. Just thinking this particular thought makes me aware that I have no ground to base my impression of Ray being a gentle and thoughtful person on. I have just met him and certainly don't know enough to vouch for Ray's honesty.

"Yeah," Ray shakes his head ruefully. "Me and Stella - that's my now ex-wife," he explains, "are done for a long time."

"I'm truly sorry," I don't know what else to say, I personally have never experienced such a painful process and am rather helpless in giving comfort but Ray just shrugs his shoulders and his thoughtful face breaks out into a grin.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Frase," he says and I'm taken aback by his somehow intimate use of my name. "We were kids and didn't know any better. You know young love and all that stupid crap."

No, I don't, I want to say but manage to keep silent. I don't need to burden my new found friend with the details of my lonely life; I just want to enjoy his company for as long as it lasts.

"Her name is Stella?" I ask just to keep him talking and he does, smiling, his face going soft with the memories of a life long gone.

"A freaking joke, isn't it? Ray and Stella Kowalski," he snorts and even I understand the reference to the character in Tennessee William's play A Streetcar Named Desire.

I listen with interest about Ray's life, taking it all in - Ray getting introduced to Stella at the age of twelve, his bravery in protecting his young love during a bank robbery by humiliating himself, their life together. Until the end of their relationship.

Ray doesn't seem to mind sharing those intimate details of his life with a stranger and I'm glad about his trust in me, willing to show him how much his openness with me is appreciated by telling him something about me in return.

"I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killer of my sister's husband," I hear me say suddenly, feeling a blush creeping up my face.

Ray is sitting straight all of a sudden, leaning towards me.

"Are you telling me you were part of a police investigation here in Chicago?"

"Yes, Ray," I nod my head. "I came to the city of Chicago with my sister, half-sister to be precise, Constable Maggie McKenzie, to serve justice."

"Justice?"

"Certainly, I'm a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, Ray."

"You are a Mountie!"

"Precisely," I answer, touching my hat which should have given me away right from the start by perhaps Ray isn't familiar with the uniform of the RCMP.

"I was stationed in Chicago at the time, you know, and I heard about a case involving Mounties but ...," Ray says, and I think that we could have met then but ... "Vecchio was the investigating Detective, right?"

"Yes, Detective Ray Vecchio of the 27th was the lead investigator and with his help we were able to apprehend Casey's murderer."

"What brings you down here again?"

"My sister has decided to take a position at the Canadian Consulate as a Liaison Officer with the Chicago Police Department, I was merely visiting her."

How Maggie is able to stand being in Chicago I will never understand. I only manage a few days before I become homesick and have to return to the land I was born in.

"You hate it here," Ray states like he has read my mind.

"Not hate per se, no," I say. "I was born in the Northwest Territories, I lived there my entire life, and a city like Chicago ..."

"You can't breathe here, I can see that," Ray smiles, taking a sip from his cup of coffee.

"Very perceptive of you, Ray."

"Hey, I'm not a Detective for nothing," he grins at me over the brim of his cup. "So, you're usually buried under 30 feet of snow?"

"Yes," I just agree even if it's incorrectly to think that it is always winter time in the Territories.

"Cool."

"It is cold indeed, Ray," he laughs out loud then and I just have to smile back at him.

AIR CANADA FLIGHT 414 IS READY FOR BOARDING

My flight - I'm not in any hurry to leave but I have duties to attend to by the day after tomorrow and I'm certain Ray's flight is going to be called for any minute now as well.

But I don't want to part, my heart is suddenly racing and I just can't let go of my tea cup.

"Frase? Fraser! FRASER!"

"I'm sorry, Ray, I," I stutter but Ray just stands up and guides me towards my gate. "You afraid of flying?"

"Of course not," I snap out of my numbness but I have to smile, looking into Ray's humour-shining eyes.

"Pleasure meeting you, Frase," Ray says, offering his hand to shake in front of my gate and I'm doing something unexpected even to myself. I pull Ray close and hug him, holding onto him rather strongly.

"Entirely my pleasure, Ray," I whisper in his ear before I let go of him and turn, not able to look at him for a second longer.

~::~::~

The whole flight back I still feel Fraser's body pressed close to mine, I didn't expect that at all. He seemed to be a guy who's very protective of his personal space but his hug was anything than shy - a full body hug.

My glance wanders to my neighbour every now and then, expecting Fraser sitting there but he's not beside me, and I realise that I should have asked for his address or even his number to contact him. Seeing him again, I just don't see it happening.

But life goes on and I settle back into my normal life with Lily, my soon-to-be-wife, my parents and my work at the Gilbert Police Department, before I met Fraser.

I may not admit it but something has changed anyway, I'm thinking too often about the dark-haired man I met in Chicago. It's like he's always in the back of my mind, always present and sometimes I just yearn to hear his voice, his laugh, and my hand is halfway to the phone to call one Constable McKenzie at the Consulate in Chicago before I realise what I'm doing and snatch my hand back.

Maybe Fraser doesn't want to hear from me; maybe I'm just someone he met and forgot all-about soon after.

I really doubt that but I'm uncertain enough to not make the call.

It's after one of those cases you're forced to live through in my profession and you just can't talk about with your girl-friend or parents because they just won't understand what it is like, and since I have no real partner, I finally make the call, not even getting what I'm doing before I hear a male voice from the other side of the line.

"Canadian Consulate, Constable Turnbull speaking. How can I help you?"

"Hi," I cough embarrassingly. "I'm Detective Ray Kowalski of the GPD and I want to speak with Constable McKenzie, Maggie McKenzie."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kowalski but Constable McKenzie is not available, can I be of any help?"

"No!" I want to yell but it wouldn't do any good. "Maybe you can give me her private number or ..."

"I'm not authorised to hand over Constable McKenzie's number," I'm about to cry out loud. "You wouldn't be able to reach her in any case. Constable McKenzie took some emergency leave. You see, a family member ..."

Fraser, is all I can think about and I'm getting sick to my stomach.

"Fraser?"

"Yes," I hear Turnbull saying and I'm about to puke. "Sergeant Robert Fraser was killed in an accident and ..."

"Sergeant?" I'm pretty sure Fraser told me that he's a constable but maybe he got promoted in the meantime and ... Oh God!

But no.

The guy said Robert and Fraser's name wasn't Robert at all.

"What about Benton Fraser? Is he, you know, alright?" I hold my breath, my hands sweating.

"Constable Fraser is well as far as I know, according to the circumstances, of course."

I sigh in relief, barely able to hold the phone receiver. Now I just have to know where Fraser is exactly and if I'm too late to stand by my friend and offer comfort and my friendship.

"I figure Sergeant Fraser will be buried in full honours in the Northwest Territories," I say in my best soothing voice.

"Of course," Turnbull sounds offended like I insulted the Queen or something. "Sergeant Fraser is a legend in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and he will be buried with full honours in his hometown Inuvik by tomorrow."

"Thanks," I disconnect, dialling my travel agent to book me a flight, any flight, to Inuvik, Canada.

~::~::~

I'm numb.

I can't see anything but the coffin in front of me, dark-brown wood, the Canadian flag placed over it.

My father.

Sergeant Robert Fraser died in an avalanche.

I can neither hear the priest's words nor those of our commanding officer or even my sisters' who has offered to talk on my behalf because I'm not able to.

I don't realise myself moving, carrying the coffin outside into the bright sun, placing it down on the graveyard.

The ceremony goes on and is over without me noticing it, I'm just standing over my father's grave, head bend, my heart beating heavily.

I have lost my father without really knowing him.

"Frase?"

A voice I haven't heard in months but haven't forgotten reaches my ears, an almost familiar touch on my arm and without my doing I'm pulled close in a hug I have yearned for what seems like forever.

The coldness around me gives way to Ray's warmth and suddenly I'm able to take in my surroundings.

Ray's smell, the touch of his warm hands on the back of my neck, his hot breathe on my ear, his lovely voice telling me he's sorry for being late.

"Ray!"

"Shhhhh, Frase," he pulls me even closer and I rest my head on his shoulder, letting go of the tension inside of me, let Ray take it all.

I don't know for how long we're standing like this but Ray holds onto me and I wrap myself around him, taking his offered support and protect him against the harsh weather conditions at the same time.

"Thank you, Ray," I disentangle myself from his lean form after five minutes or an hour or a day, I don't really know, looking into Ray's eyes.

"Hey, that's what friends are for," he smiles shyly, avoiding my eyes.

I take Ray to my home then, introducing him to Maggie, always wondering how Ray could have known that I was in need of him, how he has found me here. But I'm too afraid to ask, I'm just enjoying his presence, his smiles, his touches.

I watch him interact with my sister, with Diefenbaker, my half-wolf, who took immediate liking to Ray and I'm overwhelmed with joy, forgetting about the circumstances of why we met again.

Also this time we haven't much time for each other, Ray has to go back to Gilbert by tomorrow and as much as I love to have him here, perhaps it would have been better to never have seen him again as to have to let him go again.

Night falls too soon, as does the sun rising and before I even have time to analyse my feelings I'm at an airfield with Ray again, hugging him tight.

"Take care, Frase," Ray whispers, touching my face gently before he turns and leaves me again.

~::~::~

Lily is very understanding about the whole Canada trip out of the blue but I know she's sensing my change.

I have told her about Fraser, of course. About Fraser, my friend, not Fraser, the man I'm constantly thinking about.

But Fraser is in Canada, he belongs there, and I'm in Gilbert, Arizona where the winters are warm and the summers even hotter. There is just no way for us to come together and there is Lily I have to think about, Lily, I have promised to marry, my lovely Lily.

I'm day-dreaming all the time now, something I really shouldn't do working on a job which demands my whole attention. But I can't help comparing a life I could have with Lily, with kids and a white fence around our house, and a life I could have with Fraser in the frozen North.

But I do, dreaming that is, which puts me in the middle of a shooting, two bullets hitting my chest painfully, getting me on an operation table and into a nice cosy coma.

Fraser.

~::~::~

The message of one Lily Grayson reaches me three days after it was noted - I was on patrol and unreachable.

I didn't recognise the name but the area code of Arizona makes my heart beat faster in fear, even more when I finally reach Ms. Grayson who is telling me that Ray was wounded and is currently hospitalised.

There is no question about how to proceed, I have to go to Arizona and as soon as I have found someone who's willing to look after Diefenbaker I'm on my way to Ray.

Ray's face looks pale but peaceful; he doesn't seem to be in pain. He looks like he's sleeping. Not that I know how Ray looks when he's asleep, of course. The one time we shared quarters he was sleeping in my bedroom while I slept on the ground in my living room.

Ray.

I haven't stopped thinking about him since we first met; it has become even worse when he left me the day after my father's funeral.

I'm about to touch his face when the door opens behind me and I freeze mid-way.

"Mr. Fraser?"

I turn around, facing a blond-haired woman, eyeing me sceptically.

"I'm Benton Fraser," I introduce myself, reaching out my hand which she shakes.

"I'm Lily," she says, "Ray's fiance," and I'm about to flee the room, the country even. Of course, Ray wouldn't be alone, free to take, less by a man and it takes all my strength to smile at her.

Lily invites me to a cup of tea at the cafeteria, telling me about Ray's condition and I get to know a lovely and caring woman who's devoted and deeply in love with Ray.

I have no right to be here, at least not in the position I was hoping for - Ray already has someone to love and I shall be grateful to be his friend. But my heart yearns for more than just friendship and I decide to part as soon as I have said good-bye to Ray.

Perhaps it's our finale good-bye and perhaps it's unethical to take advantage of a comatose man but I might not see Ray again, so I place a soft kiss on Ray's lips, whispering my farewell and leave his hospital room, town and country.

~::~::~

I'm out of my coma for three day, still feeling a bit dizzy but not enough to not sense that something has happened while I was out.

Someone is always with me - my parents or Lily and I'm feeling like they don't want to give me some time to myself like I'm going to figure something out that would better be kept in the dark.

The dreams come at night while I'm sleeping.

It's like I'm in a coma again, I hear voices but can't open my eyes to see faces, I feel hands touching my body, measuring my pulse. A warm familiar hand on my face, soft lips on my mouth - Fraser.

I don't have to open my eyes to see Fraser's face, I know that he was here, has kissed my lips.

Fraser.

So I ask Lily if Fraser has been here and she affirms under tears, her hands shaking in mine, telling me that she knew she has lost my love to the dark-haired stranger from Canada.

~::~::~

It has been four wearisome months since I last saw Ray or heard of his condition, he should be out of the hospital by now, planning his wedding. I'm just hoping to never receive an invitation; I won't be able to witness Ray's marriage.

Diefenbaker suddenly comes running from the bedroom where he was sulking after our last argument about my state of mind, yelping with excitement.

"Diefenbaker," I shake my head, slowly getting out of my chair. "What could possible be this ...," I stop dead when I open up the door and see Ray standing there.

"Hey Frase," Ray greets smiling, pushing through the door and into the cabin while I'm still standing by the door, holding it open.

I don't know what to think, what to say, I'm completely lost until the moment Ray touches my hand that's holding the door.

"Frase?"

"Ray," I kind of croak before I hug him tight, taking in his smell.

"You could have said something, Frase," Ray whispers into my ear, placing a soft kiss there.

"Don't you ever leave me again, Ray!"

"I won't," he promises, smiling against my cheek before he places his lips on mine in a soft tender kiss.

The End