Disclaimer: These stories are made for entertainment only. No money is made and I have no ownership of these characters.

BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE

A due South F/V story Rated PG By Dee Gilles

Ben's keen nose smelt the smoke from blocks away and had the door to the Riv open and one foot out before Ray could bring the car to a complete stop. Thick, black smoke poured from several third-floor windows at 221 West Racine. Barely back on American soil after his Canadian vacation, Ben was off and running.

Dieffenbaker leapt out of the back seat as soon as Ben pulled the front seat up. "Dieff! Go!" Man and dog rapidly disappeared inside the building.

"I'll call it in!" Ray after Ben. But he already heard the dim whine of distant sirens.

Ray peered up the building, surveying the damage as radioed in the emergency. Ben's apartment and the one directly above his were completely involved. Ray cursed as he stared up at the flames, which burned in eerie silence. "We're going to need EMT. This place is going up like a matchbox!" Ray told the dispatcher, quickly filling her in with all the vital information. A number stunned people stumbled out of the apartment, a few having the wherewithal to pack a small sack or grab a few other belongings. There was a crowd gathering across the street, while some people even crossed the street to get closer to the burning spectacle.

Amazing what dumb shits people could be, Ray thought. There's a fire and people are running towards it. "Hey! Police! Get back! Get back!" Ray got out of the Riv and began to flail his arms. In typical Chicago style, he was completely ignored.

"Why is this my life?" he muttered. He was about to go charging after his valiant superhero friend, when he spotted her, staring straight at him.

Ray could have sworn the dirty blonde, seated in a shitbox of an old blue van, was trying to bore a hole into his head with her steely blue eyes. The woman had short coarse hair, and bags under the eyes. She had a fat face. And that button nose. He'd never forgotten a nose. He'd been noticing other people's noses since he was thirteen, when his sweet sister Maria pointed out that his, in fact, looked like a banana on his face. This had been at his thirteenth birthday party, his first boy-girl party that Ma had let him have, and he had been hoping to cop a feel from Carla deBenedetto in the basement afterwards. Instead, she had laughed along with the others, a complete betrayal as far as Little Ray was concerned.

He didn't know how he knew this woman right at that moment, but his detective's instincts told him that it was no coincidence that she was here. Almost without thought, Ray began to run towards her. She threw her cigarette through the window of the beat up old van, and put it into gear. The van lurched out into traffic, and the woman began to weave among the slower cars, prompting blaring horns. Ray turned and ran for the Riv. He spared a glance up at Benny's apartment window, heavy smoke pouring through it, torn for a moment. But Benny could handle what he was doing, and the fire engines sounded very close now. After a couple more seconds of consideration, Ray made his decision and moved on it.

By the time he could safely haul a U-turn without getting himself and somebody else killed, she already had a half a block on him. A fire engine whooshed by him so forcefully, it rocked the Riv.

His adrenaline was in overdrive as he pulled out his siren and slammed it onto the dashboard. Ray called in again, letting dispatch know he was in pursuit of a suspected arsonist, read off her plate numbers, vehicle make and description. He trusted his gut impulse again to request a backup black and white. Yeah, he knew he'd take some ribbing back at the station for not being able to handle one middle-aged woman on his own, but Ray had survived in this line of work long enough to know that sometimes you had to swallow your pride and get the extra help. It had saved his life on more than one occasion.

As the woman led him through the tough streets of Dearborn Park, fleeing due south, Ray tried to place where he knew her. Was she one of the witnesses he questioned in Chinatown that night? Or was she one of the people he paid to listen to Benny's filibuster that time? He banged his palms against the steering wheel, impatient with his slow recall. She was on the UFO sightings "tour bus", hanging out with that nut Ian McDonald. No... Oh, yeah!

Duh, Vecchio, he chastised himself. Motherwell. That crazy, sick bastard had some warped idea that burning shit down was art, "performance" art that made some kind of social statement. Made a statement, all right, Ray thought. Said 'I'm crazy. Put me away.' And Ray was happy to oblige.

The whole business with Motherwell had started right after Frannie tried to seduce Benny that time. Couple years back. Frannie finally fessed up last year that nothing happened. Thank God Benny had refused her. That would have been too weird for Ray if the two of them would have ended up "doing it." Although, maybe if they had slept together, Ray and Benny would be brothers-in-law right now, actually related to one another, and that would have been kind of cool.

The woman ahead skidded to a screeching halt, startling Ray out of his near-revelry. He could smell the burned rubber. To avoid ramming her, he was forced to hit his breaks too. Not that he would have minded hitting her, as it would have probably knocked her senseless, or at least have given her a really nasty headache. But he didn't want to bang up the Riv. He was not going through that again.

Ray smelled electrical burn, and seconds later, smoke began to pour out from the base of the steering column. Before he could even form a cussword, the front of the car burst into flames. Ray groaned in resignation. He simply grabbed his cigarette lighter and stuffed it in the breast pocket of his jacket for safe keeping, bidding another precious Riv a reluctant farewell. The blue van abruptly lurched ahead, pulling out into traffic again. It nearly collided with an eighteen-wheeler that refused to yield the lane. The sound of the big rig's air horn was deafening.

Detective First Grade Raymond Vecchio took a deep breath, and crossed himself. Then he gunned the Riv's engine for all it was worth, forcing her out of traffic before she killed somebody. The woman went careening over to the left, and slammed into a lamppost.

From his view into her side view mirror, Ray could see that the occupant of the van was still. Ray drew his gun. "Police! Get out of the vehicle! Get on the ground NOW!" The door of the van popped open. "On the ground!" The woman shuffled out, hand on the back her neck, but didn't drop. She seemed dazed, but that was her problem. She shouldn't be going around Chicago burning down buildings, and this kind of thing wouldn't happen to her.

"I said! On the ground! Now!" The woman slowly hobbled down to her knees. "Hands on your head!" Ray re-holstered as he approached her, and yanked his cuffs from his belt. He could hear his back- up coming up fast behind him.

"You have the right to remain silent," Ray began, cinching one wrist tighter than was necessary. Heat exploded behind him, knocking Ray on top of the woman, and the woman to the ground. He oofed in surprise and pain, and she wailed against further assault to her already- hurt back and neck. Good, Ray thought. I hope that hurt a lot. He slowly clambered off her back and pulled her heavy weight upright with a groan. "What's your name?" He asked.

"Greta Garbo."

"Oh yeah, and I'm Groucho Marx." The uniformed cops ran up to him.

"You alright?" The uniform that reached him first asked tersely.

"Yeah. Get her out of here," Ray said contemptuously. His eyes welled up a little as walked away from them, and watched finest auto Detroit ever made quickly transform into a blackened steel shell.

The other uniform, a short but stocky man with bull arms said, "We'll get somebody on this fire, too. Might be a while, though. There's a nasty fire a couple miles back. " He indicted the way from which he'd come with a nod of his head. His partner got the dour-looking woman settled into the back seat before radioing in.

"I know. I just came from there. She started it."

"Uh huh. Say.... You're the one with the Mountie, right? Vecchio?"

As if Benny were an accessory of his. Ray almost chuckled at the phrasing. He'd have to tease him about it later. Like Ray came with a cell phone, a gun, and a Benny. "Yeah..."

"I heard they had to take him to the hospital."

Oh... Dio Mio. Ray cursed himself for leaving his partner behind. Benny. He should have gone after his friend. "Ah, shit. Is it bad?"

"Smoke inhalation. He's going to be fine, but he put up a fight. He didn't want to go. He wanted to wait until they were sure they got everybody out."

Yep. That's my Benny. Superman to the end. Ray impulsively glanced at his car, remembering after a split second that it was not going to be taking him anywhere. "Can you drop me by there?"

The cop looked at the perp in the backseat of the squad car and shrugged. "Better have her looked at too, I suppose. You go ahead." He waved his partner in the squad car on. " I'll wait here for the fire and clean up crew. Any place in particular you want this thing taken?"

"Have it hauled to the yard. I want it checked for incendiary devices. I'll do the paperwork in the morning." Ray read his nametag. "Officer Doyle. Good looking out. I owe you one."

"Hey, we take care of our own. No problem."

Ray gingerly climbed into the front seat of the squad car, getting one last look in the rear view mirror at his baby. In the mirror, he caught the eye of Greta Garbo. "You," he sneered, "are going to pay for this."

Garbo smiled. "You were next, you know."

"Yeah, right," Ray shot back. He turned around and sighed with disgust, although a chill ran up his spine. And why did he keep losing Riv's, anyway? Maybe he and the Riv weren't meant to be together, at least since Benny came into his life. Seemed like God was sending him some kind of sign. Okay, yeah, sure, it was a sign. But what Ray couldn't understand was what God might have against 1971 Buick Rivieras.

The cop driving the car hit the blue light and she pulled into traffic. She had jet-black wavy hair, and Ray thought she looked a little like Angie. He turned away from her to stare out the window after they exchanged greetings, his thoughts quickly turning to Benton Fraser, lying there in a hospital bed, waiting for him.

WWWWWW

Ray found Benny sitting up on a gurney in the hallway. Aside from a little soot, Ray thought he looked just fine. His Mountie-suit was pristine. Must have had the Scotchguard re-applied while he was up in Canada.

"Ray, are you okay?" Leave it to Benny, Ray thought, to be in the hospital and ask someone else how they were doing.

"I got my man, Benny. Only this time, my man was a woman. Remember that psycho Motherwell? The nut-job arsonist from a couple years back? Turns out this basket case had a groupie. I remember seeing her at the trial one day. Calls herself Greta Garbo. Carrying on his work as an homage. "

"Good work, Ray. Justice prevails." Ben gave him a quick little jerk of the head, his version of a nod of approval.

"So what about you, Benny?"

"What about me, Ray?"

"You're kiddin' right? You nearly die in a fire, and you're looking at me like you don't know what I'm talking about?"

"I hardly was on death's door, Ray. It's all very silly, really, them bring me here when there were so many other serious injuries. I don't need to be here. "

Ray shook his head, too relieved that Benny was okay to argue with him. "Where's Dieff?"

"He's with the nurses. Several of them remember him from our last visit here. He's ingratiating himself upon them once again. How embarrassing."

Ray couldn't believe how normal Fraser seemed. If their roles were reversed, and Ray was the one who was homeless, and with no material possessions left in the world, he'd be a wreck. This helped him have perspective on his next bit of news to Benny. "Well, I lost another Riv. Death by fire once again. She rigged it with some kind of device. She's gonna rot in jail for this."

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"It's okay, Benny. It's just a car." Ray tried to smile.

An awkward silence fell between them, neither knowing what to say next.

"So," Ray finally said. "Was anything in your apartment salvageable?"

"No." Benny seemed to suddenly collapse upon himself, looking abruptly exhausted. That funny little silence again.

"You ready to get out of here?"

"I'm afraid I've got no place to go, Ray."

"You're kiddin' right? Course you do. Frannie's on her way to pick us up. I'll go and get Dieff. You keep a look out for her."

"Alright, Ray."

Before going after Dieffenbaker, Ray stepped outside to use his cell phone to get the rest of Team Vecchio mobilized. Maria picked up the phone on the first ring, and Ray quickly filled her in. He instructed her to make up the spare room for Benny, and asked her to have Tony get him underclothes, socks, a few shirts, and a couple of pair of pants before the stores closed for the night. He told him where to find his emergency credit card in his room "Yeah, yeah," Ray said. "Just sign my name, will ya? Who's gonna know the difference?" He took a guess at Benny's sizes, somewhere between his size and Tony's and just hoped everything would fit. He called his buddy Joey Padducci keep the shoe shop open util Ma could get down there for a couple of free pair of loafers and some sneakers.

By the time he wrapped up his calls and fetched the wolf, Frannie was there, fawning and fluttering all over Fraser, face still edged with that awful goop she used to give herself facials. The four of them folded themselves into Frannie's little Honda hatchback.

By the time they got back to the house, Ma was home and had dinner started. She rushed to the door as soon as she heard it open, crossing herself and kissing her two boys, thanking God that they were safe.

Ray hustled Benny off to the shower, so that he could scrub the smoke smell away. He reappeared, fresh-faced, in Tony's faded gray sweatpants, an undershirt and bare feet. Ma wasted no time stuffing her new charge full of lasagna, good bread with olive oil, chicken parm, and a ladle of stew for good measure, while the Vecchio children begged to hear stories of the Mountie saving innocent people from a certain death by fire. The wolf stuffed himself with several helpings of stew also. After all, he was also a hero, having saved dozens of lives along with his human companion.

Ray finally dragged his exhausted friend up to bed. Ben quickly stripped off the undershirt and collapsed into bed with a groan.

"Benny?" Ray began.

Tony burst in before Ray could say more, his arms full of bags and Maria in tow. After Ray and Ben filled them in on the events of the day, the two of them busied themselves in putting away Ben's new things, as he thanked them profusely, stammering and overwhelmed. "It's no trouble for family, Fraser, buddy." Tony said. "Think nothing of it."

Sophia Vecchio glided in to tuck in her adopted son, kiss his forehead, and call him Caro. Frannie also appeared, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of him in his underwear.

Ray had had enough. "Alright, alright. Clear out and give the man some air to breathe." He waved his arms and shooed the four of them off.

Ben and Ray were alone. "Ray....I don't know what to say. I don't deserve..."

Ray sat down on the bed, his hip resting against his friend's. "Ben." he said. Ray had never called him that. It sounded very strange on Ray's lips. "Can I tell you something? Something I want you to remember until your dying day? I will always take care of you, Benny." Ray shifted uncomfortably, and added, after a few beats of silence, staring at the ceiling. "Love ya, kid. Ya know? You mean the world to me."

Everything in Ben paused for a moment as he tried to connect those words with any memory. When was the last time anybody said those words to him? Had anybody ever said those words to him? Perhaps Mum? Could that have been the last time? He quickly blinked as hot tears stung his eyes.

Ray Vecchio dropped his head and sighed. He crawled on top of the covers next to Ben and lay with him as his best friend ever-so-quietly wept, feeling overwhelmed by love and loss. Ray finally got to see Benton Fraser that night. Being not the Mountie, not the hero, not the saint. He got to see Benton Fraser being nothing but human.

Finis