Author's website: https://www.squidge.org/~pumpkin/cara/caraindex.html

Disclaimer: Petfly. You know the drill.

Author's Notes: Dedicated to Fuzzicat: thanks for the tapes!!! All inaccuracies and errors purely the fault of the author. Thanks to Gilda Lily for evil chat inspiration and Anne for her kind readthrough.

Story Notes:

This story is a sequel to: Breathe Your Breath

Standing at the window of his warm, cozy home, Ray Vecchio watched the first flakes of snow whirl out of a sky that was never completely dark except during the occasional night-time power blackout. The flakes were small and dry, and they looked all the colder for it, whipped on the wet wind off Lake Michigan.

He was reaching toward the rack for his muffler and his long overcoat before anyone could notice that he'd drifted away from the bosom of his family, summoned forth by the chilly promise of the falling snow. His hand was on the knob when his mother glanced up to give him a concerned look. He nodded to reassure her, then slipped through the front door.

Thin cold air played on his cheeks and over his head, but Ray didn't wrap his muffler tight, looping it loosely behind his neck. He left his mittens and his knitted hat in the pockets of his coat, letting the cold nip his fingers and scalp. He cast a glance at the Riv, then thought better of it. She was sure-footed in snow, but not on ice, and until this had a chance to accumulate, it was better to leave her safely parked.

Besides, he wanted to be outside. He wanted to remember.

The cold wind swirled into his coat and up his sleeves, chilling his arms and body. Ray left it unbuttoned, strolling down the street with his arms swinging easily at his sides. Snowflakes melted on his head and face just as they had when he watched Benny leave on that damned train, but that didn't concern him as much as the sweet chill of the air or its heavy wet bite. He remembered that chill, and had longed for it through the long, humid months of summer.

Ray walked through the night on automatic pilot, his mind drifting absently. It was your typical winter in Chicago; Benny had his job back, crooks were getting dumber, and Ray ought to feel content. But instead felt restless more and more frequently, plagued by the urge to wander.

Ray shook his head sharply, annoyed with himself. Things were back to normal, more or less. Wasn't that what he'd wanted when he brought Benny home? He'd thought so at the time...

In spite of his reservations about dishonesty, Benny had insinuated himself back into his uniform with ludicrous ease. Superintendent Moffat was a thickheaded moron in Ray's estimate, but the man had been so enthused with his impending transfer that Benny's "got my man" explanation immediately satisfied him. He'd seemed to regard Fraser's return as an irritating interruption of his own concerns, and all he wanted was for Benny to get back to work and clean the Consulate from top to bottom so that the new boss could see that he, Moffat, ran a tight ship.

Riiiiiight.

Ray's mouth tightened. He'd gone with Benny to provide support and wound up sitting quietly, unnoticed, while Moffat gloated about showing Americans who was boss and closing old Canadian cases that bumbling American cops couldn't touch if you gave them both hands, a map, and a flashlight. That hadn't sat too well with Ray but he kept his trap shut. Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Even if it was a gift horse's ass, which Moffat was. Unbelievably, in less than five minutes, Benny had the right to wear his uniform again. If it was under false pretenses... well, that was between Benny and the Queen, and Benny wasn't talking.

Lucky thing they'd come back when they had. Moffat's replacement was there in two days, and she was a real hard-ass; she switched between giving Fraser the frigid fish-eye and looking at him like she was on a starvation diet and he was maple sugar candy. If Benny'd come to her for reinstatement, she'd have sent him packing so fast he'd have singed at the seams-- and then probably asked him for a date the second after he handed in his serge.

The long hard road back hadn't all been beer and skittles, though. It had been particularly bad during Victoria's trial. Ray winced, remembering how Thatcher had sat listening to Benny's testimony with a skeptical, arch look on her face. Since he was one of the arresting officers, work had let Ray attend the whole trial, which he'd spent praying that Benny somehow would find the strength not to crumble on the witness stand. Being Benton Fraser, he hadn't.

Ray kept walking. He was cold enough now, cold enough that the bite was taking him back whether he wanted to go or not. He kept walking, conceding to the weather just enough to stick his hands in his pockets. The sweet wet cold of the snow soaked into him, and he lifted his face into its kiss.

Just the way he'd lifted his mouth, oh so slightly, and let Benny kiss him on the mountain last summer.

A shiver stuttered its way down Ray's spine, and he set his jaw savagely. Just the cold. But it wasn't, and he was long past the point of distracting himself with excuses.

Ray lengthened his stride. He'd had a long time to worry about that kiss: nearly two hundred restless nights. A million guilty, stolen moments out of his days, watching Benny out of the corner of his eye. There had even been a few hot, shame-scorched minutes with his sweat-slick cock in his palm.

He'd learned sympathy for Edwards' fate; for months now Ray had been struggling not to be overwhelmed by the avalanche of revelation triggered by that single brief kiss. Even now he was still riding the tides of guilt and shame and uncertainty and fear, struggling to keep his head above the surface-- trying not to flinch every time he heard the word 'gay.'

Learning to accept that he loved a man was easy compared to admitting that he wanted one. And that wasn't even the hardest thing. No. Trying not to lose either Benny or himself while he worked it all out in his head, that was the tough part. Not Ray's shame that the kiss had happened in the first place or even his humiliation that he wanted to kiss Fraser again, plus more.

The very worst thing of all was what this was doing to Benny. He couldn't read Fraser anymore, not about that or about anything else. Benny had closed up tight as a clam that night at the ski lodge and never opened up again. He glided through his duties quietly, as remote and cold as the distant mountaintop where they'd kissed, the man seeming just as beautiful and unreal as the memory.

Ray sighed, watching the cracked sidewalk under his feet. Nobody else might notice, but Ray Vecchio knew Benton Fraser better than anybody. Benny looked a lot more miserable now than he had just before he left with Victoria... and that was saying a lot. Sometimes Ray woke up sweating, convinced that if he called the Consulate he'd learn that Benny had gone. Again.

He didn't know how he would live with that.

So here he was, walking through the snow wondering how the hell he was ever going to work up enough courage to... well, try something. Make a move. Take the risk that Benny would knock him flat on his ass and leave him to live with the humiliation of what he'd tried to do. Take the risk that he wouldn't be able to go through with it. Take the risk of finding out that he didn't like it with a guy even if that guy was Benton Fraser. Take the risk that he'd love it, and then spend the rest of his life trying to cope with what everyone he knew thought of him for turning gay at thirty-five.

He sighed and walked on into the night. Cold. Sweet, sweet cold seeped into his very bones, leaving him wet and shivering, letting him pretend that the woolen comfort of his designer overcoat was the press of Benny's warm arms. He could imagine the silk of his dress shirt was the butter-smooth skin of Benny's body, chilled by the snow; it tickled against his chill-tightened nipples, pressing flat against his chest when the wind cut through it... caressing him.

Ray swallowed hard. Jesus. Ma would think he was begging for pneumonia, walking out here like this without even throwing his muffler around his ears. Maybe he was. Maybe he was ready to do or die. An odd peace settled over him, and he looked up into the white streaks of the falling snow. Maybe tonight...

A siren cut into his musing, and in moments a police cruiser screamed past with its lights whirling. Ray darted a quick glance around and lifted his hand imperiously. "Taxi!"

The cab carried him several blocks in the cruiser's wake, passing the Canadian Consulate. Ray sighed at his feet for taking him in that direction. There was a light in Benny's office window-- and if he'd ever let himself get close enough to see that, it might have been enough to turn him homeward again with everything unspoken, just as he had on a dozen other nights. Ray set his chin forward, swallowing painfully.

They took the next right, then rolled a few blocks more before they came on the crime scene. Ray motioned the driver to halt behind the squad car and paid him. Four uniformed cops stood puffing clouds of breath into the frigid air, two unrolling yellow fluttering tape around a crumpled corpse and the others taking down information from the single 'witness.' He was a shabby-looking drunk who'd probably just stumbled over the body. Ray snorted, surprised that he'd been crazy enough to decide to phone it in instead of immediately seeking prime real estate elsewhere and keeping his trap shut.

The coroner hadn't arrived yet, so Ray stepped over the tape and moved to crouch down beside the limp body sprawled on the pavement. No visible marks. Looked like strangulation, same as the first two. White male, mid thirties, brown hair, blue eyes staring into nothingness in an expression of horror, one-eighty pounds tops. For more than that, he'd have to wait for the autopsy.

He didn't touch the corpse, scanning the pavement for scuff marks and litter related to the victim. Clean as a whistle-- there might be a few fibers and bruises on the corpse, but those wouldn't be worth a nickel until there were suspects to match them to. This guy, like the others, had been killed somewhere else, then driven here and shoved out of the car onto the alley for the next lucky pedestrian to find.

Not his case. Huey and Gardino had this one, and they'd raise hell if they caught him poking around the body.

The snow fell faster, starting to dust over the corpse and stick to the shoulders of Ray's overcoat, dampening his hair. Uniformed officers bustled around taking care of a hundred little details, remote from him. Time was when he wouldn't have been alone at a scene like this. Benny would've heard the sirens or used some sixth Mountie sense and turned up at his elbow. Or Ray would have called him out into the snow. He still could, actually. Benny would come.

Ray straightened and stepped back, ignoring the painful popping of his knees. He wrapped the thick woolen scarf around his neck and buttoned up his coat, no longer wanting to feel the chill. He rubbed his forehead, where a headache was starting to work overtime. A slight noise over his shoulder alerted him, or maybe just a certain quality of silence. When he looked up Benny was there, wearing his hat and pea coat. There was a flush of high color in his cheeks that let Ray know Fraser had been out walking in the snow, just like him.

He looked thin, nowhere near as thin as Ray but enough that Ray's Ma would probably fuss and feed him till he was ready to burst. That is, if Benny ever came over to visit anymore.

"Third one." Ray managed a perfectly casual tone that revealed none of his conflicting thoughts. "No clue who's doing it or why. Just bodies showing up every few days."

Benny nodded absently and crossed the tape line, Diefenbaker trotting close at his heels. He moved till he could see the dead man's face, his expression unchanging as he looked down into the wide, sightless eyes. The wolf sniffed at the body and uttered a low growl, turning his muzzle to peer into the street.

"What have we here?" Louis Gardino's sarcastic twang preceded him into the alley. "Huey, do I see someone tampering with our crime scene?"

"Get lost, Vecchio. This is our case." Huey's fluid, accented English lilted even when used in contempt. "Take Dudley Do-Right with you."

Ray winced. Both of them had been there to see Benny run after the train and leave with Victoria, and they were probably going to forget it and forgive him some time shortly after Ray's dad got out of purgatory. In other words, as soon as Hell froze over.

Benny seemed to fade into the background without moving; a subtle and self-effacing tilt of his head put his face into the shadow cast by the brim of his Stetson. It was a new habit of his, one that Ray didn't like.

"I was out for a walk when the first car responded. I haven't bothered your precious witness." Ray's tone cut sharp. "The uniforms have him waiting in the back of that squad car." He jerked a thumb backward. "Think you can get any more out of him than you'll get out of the corpse?" He didn't wait for a response. "Come on, Benny, let's go. I don't think you wanna be around when these two try to browbeat some poor wino into telling them all kinds of stuff he doesn't know."

Benny came without protest, walking back out of the alley at Ray's shoulder. That was new, too. They used to walk abreast.

One of the uniforms shot Fraser a dirty look, and Ray frowned, worrying. Huey and Gardino weren't the only ones with a long memory. After the second or third time Welsh tore Fraser a new one for coming into the precinct office without proper authorization, he'd stopped trying. Now Ray visited him at work instead of the other way around.

Fraser didn't comment on the absence of Ray's car, starting to walk back toward the consulate. Ray shot Fraser a sidelong glance. "Nice night for walking."

"It is." Benny looked up into the swirling snowflakes. They were growing thicker and wetter now. A few dusted his lashes for a brief instant, then melted, sparkling in the streetlights. Ray caught his breath, glancing away, momentarily seeing Benny wearing only a towel, sitting in a warm wooden room, pale firelit skin against forest green.... A warm shudder slid up his spine. Damn it.

"That man was... an escort." Benny informed him in even tones. "There were bite marks on his neck, and he was well-dressed. His hands were manicured and his shoes shined. He had a scent of several men's--"

"Yeah," Ray agreed, trusting Fraser for it without the blow-by-blow description of his reasoning, and wanting to get away from the uncomfortable topic. "So were the others. Fraser..." he stopped at the curb, looking for a way to be tactful. "You sure it's safe to be out walking by yourself with some crazy perp on the loose?"

Fraser gave him the patented 'I have no idea what you mean, Ray' look that Ray just didn't buy anymore and kept walking across the street, the lights from the squad cars casting eerie red-and-blue patterns on his shoulders.

Ray fell in behind him; he didn't have a ride home and the consulate wasn't too far out of his way, so he might as well. They walked for some time in silence, Diefenbaker trotting along slightly in the lead. He seemed to be the only happy one of the trio.

In all the nights Ray had wrestled with himself while letting his feet wander, he'd never actually made it within talking distance of Benny. Might as well make the most of it now that he had.

"Benny, you...." Ray swallowed hard. "You're not sorry you came back with me, are you?"

Inscrutable, that pale blue stare, judging him minutely and without hurry. "Are you, Ray?" Fraser continued walking, crisply but without undue hurry.

"What, are you crazy?" Ray caught up to him in a few hasty steps. "Of course not! Look. Don't take those two jerks back there serious, OK, Benny? They'll get over it. It just takes a while. They don't know you like I do."

Again, it was the wrong thing to say, and opaque eyes flashed at him. "Do you." Fraser mused on the words visibly, turning them over in his mouth. "Do you know me?" His eyes raked Ray once, judging him hotly, then turned forward again, and he quickened his pace.

Another shiver ran its quicksilver course through Ray's spine. Yeah. I know you. It's me I don't know. Those words stuck in his throat, so he tried others. "I think so," he answered quietly. "You're my best friend."

They walked on in silence, Fraser setting a brutal pace toward the consulate, apparently eager to be rid of Ray. The amber-lit facade drew near rapidly, and Fraser unlocked the front door with brisk motions and let himself inside. Ray bit his lip and followed close on the Mountie's heels, slipping through the door before Benny could close it in front of him.

He'd been headed for this all along, after all, every time he'd left his house to wander in the night, every time he'd failed to make himself come to Fraser before he gave up and went home. Every time he was too fucking chicken-shit to reach out for what he knew he wanted. Had known, really, ever since the mountain. Jesus, Benny.

They stood in the foyer, silence uncomfortable between them. At last Fraser reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Maybe he had a headache too. "Was there something you needed, Ray?"

"Yeah, Benny. I gotta talk to you." Ray looked around the gloomy foyer nervously. "Can we go into your office or something?"

Fraser's brow crinkled faintly with reluctance. "The building is empty, Ray, except for you and myself. And Diefenbaker," he corrected as an afterthought.

Ray just shook his head, feeling nervy and aggressive. "I'm not gonna say what I've got to say out in the lobby, Fraser."

Benny caved in, turning and leading the way toward the back of the building, into his small office. It held his desk, chairs, and a narrow cot-- this room was where Benton Fraser both worked and slept since returning to Chicago and discovering that Mr. Mustaphi had occupied his old apartment and taken custody of his few remaining amenities.

Not that there had been anything important left there. Right after Fraser took off, Ray retrieved the personal things out of Benny's apartment himself. He'd stored them away, feeling foolish and angry and hurt, but not able to abandon the shreds of hope. Now Robert Fraser's journals and Benny's small chest of photographs and family papers stood tidily on a shelf near his desk, in perfect harmony with the sober furnishings of the small area.

Fraser moved across the room to his desk, putting his blotter into precise geometric alignment with the edge of his wooden desktop. After he finished, Ray couldn't tell any difference. The cot was tightly made; Ray would have bet you could bounce a quarter off it. The surface of the room felt wrong; blank and inexpressive, like a mask. Like the expression Fraser wore now. The perfect stoic Mountie look, stretched tight and brittle. Ready to crack.

Fraser hung his hat from its peg inside the closet door but made no other move to undress, not even unbuttoning his coat.

"Why were you out walking tonight, Benny?"

When Fraser failed to respond, Ray felt at a loss. Rotten timing. Another night, the silence might have been enough to shut him up and push him out, but after months of waiting, he was starting to understand that there would never be a good time for this-- and that the longer he waited, the worse it got. Squaring his jaw defiantly, he unfastened his overcoat and tossed his muffler into Fraser's guest chair, uncomfortable with the contrast between the cold street and the warm indoors.

Abruptly Fraser continued tidying his desk, picking up a neat sheaf of stapled papers and stuffing them into a desk drawer. The sharpness of his motion and the uncharacteristically haphazard disposal caught Ray's eye, and he stepped closer, wondering what Benny had to hide. Predictably Fraser moved away from him, and Ray used the chance to dart in to snag the drawer open and take the papers back out again.

"RCMP posting vacancies list?" Ray evaded Fraser's impatient reach and flipped over the front page. A couple of towns were highlighted; their names looked like somebody had a sneezing fit while touch-typing. Ray stared at the yellow-striped page, swallowing hard. Tuktoyaktuk. Inuvik.

Fraser sighed and started fidgeting with his office supplies. "Damn it, Benny!" Watching Fraser sort his pens and pencils, Ray felt some crucial restraint snap inside him. He threw the list into the spotless trashcan. "You're not going anywhere!"

"Ray..." Fraser stretched the name in protest, his voice sad.

Ray stalked to the small window and stared out into the silent snow. The small window made the outside view look unreal, televised, the snow like soft yellow static brushing diagonally across the beam of the streetlight. He set the heels of his palms against the frame and pushed it up, the painted wood scrubbing upward jerkily. It hadn't been opened in a long time. He remembered a time when Benny would have refused to stay in a place where the windows didn't open easily.

"What are you doing, Ray?" Fraser sounded startled.

"I'm opening a window, Benny. It's stuffy as a tomb in here." That was better; cold air billowed into the room, bringing the snow with it. Ray moved to the other wall and opened a second window; the draft brought the wind whistling through keenly, and Dief whined in protest.

"Ray..." this time Fraser sounded exasperated. He reached to push down the window, and Ray's hand caught his wrist hard, stopping him. Their eyes locked.

A gust swirled around them, fluffy white flakes settling on their sleeves and melting away almost instantly. The white stuff was really starting to pile up outside, Ray thought vaguely. The snow-laden wind was cold and wet, but Benny was warm and dry, his chest solid, the heavy gold buttons of his pea coat chilly through Ray's thin silk shirt, his shoulders broad and square under Ray's hands.

And his mouth... the same sweetness Ray remembered, but with the intensity of a furnace. Burning hot, lusciously wet. Perfect narrow lips yielding to shared hunger. Benny, sucking and biting and licking him, abruptly urgent, trying to devour him whole.

Ray's right hand slid to the small of Benny's back, pulling them tighter together. The hard masculine smoothness of Benny's body against him felt disconcertingly alien and exquisitely familiar at once.

God.

Ray slid the fingers of his free hand deeply into lush dark hair and drank his fill with a low whimper of relief. Benny let himself be moved, purely willing and actively encouraging Ray by nudging his chin forward and letting his mouth fall open. Ray accepted the invitation, licking inside. So good: maddening and unreasonable rightness. Their tongues lashed at each other, and the heat of their bodies touching eclipsed the cold.

Ray was desperately hard. His mind was swimming with giddy euphoria, his blood singing through his veins. This was it, what he'd wanted for months, what he should have taken long ago. Benny. Benny. Benny. Ray tasted and tasted Fraser, diving back for more kisses each time they separated, ignoring the ache of too little oxygen in his lungs.

After a short eternity that Ray spent drinking luxuriantly of Benny's mouth, Fraser began to assert himself. Ray gasped as he felt Benny's sharp white teeth close on his lower lip, chewing and tugging gently. So good. Ray murmured his pleasure into the kiss and Fraser slowly took the lead, his hands sliding around Ray's ribs to cradle him close. Carefully Fraser pressed him back until his hips touched the wall.

Benny's buttons were warm now, but still uncomfortable trapped against his chest and belly. Ray thought briefly of removing the coat that separated them, but Benny's hips pushed against him urgently and his mind shattered with pleasure. He gave himself up to the intoxicating abandon of Fraser's knowing touch. Wonderful and shockingly skillful, that sweet mouth, even though Fraser's growing aggression was making him edgy-- Ray felt a seed of panic take root, balancing uneasily against his lust. He needed to look into Fraser's eyes; he feared what he would see there.

Ray pushed away without deciding to, open hands on Fraser's chest enforcing the space between them, whirling snowflakes and bitter air separating their bodies. Fraser's mouth looked red and wet, his lips swollen, his hair tousled. Beautiful, unearthly. Ray felt his lungs heaving like a bellows, as though he'd just run a race.

Involuntarily he met Fraser's gaze-- dark iris nearly eclipsed the pale blue eyes. Benny's expression filled with wild, untamed hunger-- devouring and intractable, focused entirely on Ray. Benny was breathing hard too, looking feral and hopeful, eyes intense with need and pain.... abruptly decisive, Benny stepped forward into Ray's space again, crushing him against the wall. His hand moved down Ray's belly with sensual purpose, and Ray let his head fall back, moaning with giddy ecstasy. Yes. Now.

A muffled thumping made Ray flinch, escaping to the side, automatically putting proper masculine distance between them. "Shit!" He tried not to sound guilty. "Who's that?"

"I don't know, Ray." Fraser's forehead creased in a frown and he reached for his hat, all business in an instant. "It's unusual for anyone to knock at this hour."

A little agitated, Ray followed him into the foyer, where the door opened-- revealing Huey and Gardino.

"Constable Fraser." Huey stepped forward a bit, his formal politeness not effacing Gardino's quiet smirk. "We'd like to ask you a few questions regarding tonight's murder."

"What the hell do you think he knows?" Ray snapped, forgetting arousal and guilt immediately in a flood of annoyance. "You saw everything he saw."

Huey just looked at Ray coolly, then returned his attention to Fraser. "Constable? Will you voluntarily accompany us down to the precinct?"

"Why the hell can't you ask him what you need here?" Ray stepped forward, belligerent.

"Shut up, Vecchio."

"No, I won't shut up. I wanna know--"

"Ray." Fraser shook his head soberly. "I'll be glad to cooperate with your investigation, Detectives."

"I'm coming too." Ray hurried back around the reception desk and into Fraser's office to shut the windows and get his overcoat. He had a bad feeling about this; if Huey and Louis wanted to harass Fraser, they could do plenty of that right here without ever taking him downtown. His instincts were screaming that they had something, or at least they thought they did. No way was he letting Benny walk into this alone.

Jesus. Did they have to bring him in tonight?

Fraser sat on the wrong side of the scuffed interview table, looking subdued but collected. Ray paced, fidgeting while Huey and Gardino delayed. He wondered who was on the other side of the mirror to watch this farce play out.

He decided it was important to know. "I won't go far, Benny." Ray promised, then stalked out into the hall and went to see for himself. A guy with a camera, standard. Elaine-- Elaine? Ray gave her a glare and she had the good grace to look ashamed. Three or four miscellaneous cops, a couple of them detectives, and a guy running some audio recording equipment. Then Welsh walked in, clearing his throat and giving Ray a dirty look.

"That's it. This whole department's gone nuts." Ray raised his hands to heaven. In the other room, he could hear Gardino start the interrogation. He was torn between going back in there to give Fraser moral support and staying in here to see how the wind blew. Welsh jabbed a meaty finger forward, directing his attention toward the window, and Ray subsided sullenly, listening.

"Constable Fraser, can you describe for us your whereabouts and activities on the evening of January seventh?"

"What the hell are we doing interviewing him like a suspect?" Ray exploded afresh.

"Detective, that decision is at the discretion of Detectives Huey and Gardino, and if you want to continue being allowed to observe this interview..." Welsh's warning trailed off.

"What have they got? At least tell me what they think they've got." Ray snapped. He could hear Benny's smooth tones in the background, reciting an itinerary enlivened by such scandalous activities as using his hot plate to cook dinner, brushing Diefenbaker, and taking a walk.

"Again, that's for Detectives Huey and Gardino to share, if they choose." Welsh stared at him implacably.

"Then they do think they've got something?" Ray's voice rose indignantly. Elaine, standing behind the rest of the assembled cops, gave Ray a significant look, tapping her nose with her finger, and he backed down. OK, fine. He'd use the grapevine if he had to.

"Maybe if you'd listen for a change, you'd learn something." Welsh commented wryly, tipping his head toward the ongoing interview, and Ray whirled to listen, glowering.

Standard. Innocuous. Insulting. "So you ate alone. Do you have anyone who can confirm your whereabouts during that period? Where did you walk? Do you do this regularly? Do you have a regular route, and witnesses who could confirm...?"

Alibi. They were digging for alibis, and Fraser was such a loner he didn't have any to offer. Goddammit.

"This is harassment," Ray growled.

"Detectives Huey and Gardino have sufficient cause, Vecchio, and that's all you need to know."

"Sufficient cause my ass!" Ray wheeled on his brothers in blue, seething. "The whole department's had it in for him ever since I brought him back. OK, I can see a little distrust, but this is Benton Fraser we're talking about, and you haven't even given him a chance! He brought the bitch in, didn't he?!"

Elaine was frowning at him, shaking her head, but he didn't care.

"Charge him or let him go," Ray heard himself snarl. "Everybody in this room knows Fraser hasn't got a damn thing to do with these murders."

"You brought Victoria Metcalfe in, Detective Vecchio." Welsh answered him coldly. "I believe your personal involvement is affecting your judgment in this matter."

Movement in the corner of his eye alerted him; Huey and Gardino and Fraser stood stiffly. Without handshakes or other polite formalities, Fraser strode from the room and Ray met him in the hall. Benny looked troubled; not precisely upset or afraid, but definitely not happy.

"I'm gonna find out what the hell's going on, Fraser." Ray promised. "It's gonna take me a little while. What'd they tell you?"

"I'm free to go, but they would prefer if I didn't leave town in case I can assist them with further inquiries." Benny's voice sounded dry.

Ray's brow's shot up with disbelief. "Don't leave TOWN?" He rounded on Huey and Gardino as they came out of the interview room.

"I'm gonna get to the bottom of this, and when I do, IA is gonna have your asses for harassment, my friends." Ray gritted his teeth, trying to bite back his anger.

"Don't count on it, Vecchio." Gardino smirked, and Huey pushed him down the hall, pausing only to give Ray a cool glare over his shoulder.

"Ray, I've got some information that you wanted on the Evans case," Elaine informed him, materializing at his elbow. "If you can't come to your desk right now, give me a call before you turn in, OK?" She looked up at him, expression guileless, but her eyes were pointedly intent. She flickered an embarrassed glance toward Fraser. "Hi. Long time no see." Benny just nodded politely.

Ray eyed her with suspicion. She should have been off-duty hours ago. So should he. "Yeah, Elaine, sure. Thanks. Let's go, Benny." He stalked out, taking out his anger by slamming doors and scuffing his feet, only partly distracted by the intriguing prospect of Elaine's information.

He ushered Fraser out of the building, fuming noisily, and signed a car out of the motor pool to drive them home. Flopping into the seat behind the wheel, he hit speed-dial and tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear. "Yeah, Elaine. Ray. What you got for me?"

"Just a second, let me get the file I need." Elaine sounded casual, and a long pause ensued as she apparently found some privacy. "Ray, if it gets out that I'm feeding you information..."

"My lips are sealed, Elaine." Ray took a turn out of the parking garage and headed toward the Consulate.

"Yeah, well, I'm doing this for Fraser, not for you," she groused. "Huey and Gardino have an eye-witness, Ray. This guy says he saw Fraser driving the drop car-- he described a dark-haired man wearing a hat, a red coat, brown leather boots, and dark trousers with a yellow stripe up the side."

"Oh yeah?" Ray blinked. "Well, Fraser's not the only Mountie in Chicago, and any jerk can walk off the street into a shop and rent a Mountie costume."

"I know that!" Exaggerated patience. "This is the only lead they've got. Three bodies, no leads, and you saw how Welsh is. He thinks he's protecting you, Ray. Fraser nearly took you down when he jumped bail with Metcalfe."

Ray sighed explosively, glad he didn't have the Riv, where Elaine would be coming through on a speaker. "That's not relevant to this situation."

Benny flickered him a glance, looking apprehensive.

"Anyway, if this guy's such a fine eyewitness, why wasn't there a lineup? He wouldn't know Benny from a hole in his head, Elaine. I got a whiff of him at the scene and he's probably seeing pink alligators wearing Stetson hats, not just Mounties!"

"That's why there wasn't a lineup." Elaine agreed. "They're drying him out down in holding first."

"This isn't gonna stand up and they know it."

"The guy says that the Mountie he saw at the crime scene was the same one he saw driving the drop car, Ray."

Shit.

"No proof." Ray bit out sharply.

"I've gotta go." Elaine's voice changed; someone had ferreted her out. "Time and a half only goes so far. If you want anything else, find it yourself."

"Yeah, right." Ray closed the phone. "There's an eye-witness who says he saw a guy in Mountie clothes driving the car that dropped the body. He says it was the same Mountie he saw at the scene later-- you." He stuffed the phone in his pocket. "He's three sheets to the wind and no judge would buy his testimony, Benny."

"Possibly, Ray." Fraser didn't sound hopeful.

"We're gonna be pro-active with this, Benny. From here on out, you have an alibi and eyewitnesses 24 hours a day. You go in at the Consulate and get what you need, then you're coming to live at my house for a while, till all of this blows over." He steered them out of the parking garage and onto the street.

Fraser was already shaking his head resolutely. "I'm sorry, Ray. I can't leave the consulate unattended for the remainder of the night, and the murderer is unlikely to strike again so soon."

"Benny--"

Benny's eyes moved over him once as they passed under the sodium-vapor glow of a street light, and Ray felt himself tense. He could feel the heat in that look without even meeting it. "Ray, I would feel uncomfortable intruding on your family, and on you, in such a way." In spite of his obvious desire to be near Ray, Benny sounded sincere.

"It's my house and it's not an intrusion," Ray responded automatically. He steered them through a turn with just a little too much speed. His family wasn't going to agree to that. Especially Frannie and Ma. They'd never forgiven Fraser for taking off and leaving him to the tender mercies of IA.

"Even living at your house, I would hardly have an airtight alibi 24 hours a day." Fraser pointed out reasonably.

"Well, it'll be a lot better one than you'll get sitting around at that Consulate by yourself after everybody's gone home. Bring your bedroll and you can stay in my room. I'd wake up if you tried to leave."

Fraser's eyes softened and saddened as he looked at Ray. "Perhaps another time." His quiet voice held steel.

Ray swore, sensing defeat. "Tonight. Fine. It'll give me a chance to give Ma some time to get ready for company. Tomorrow night you're coming home with me whether you want to or not." He paused, realizing how sexually charged that might sound.

"I want to." Calm, but with the faintest hint of dark silk beneath, enough to make Ray shiver. Their eyes met briefly, then Ray returned his attention to the road, swallowing past a thick, hard knot in his throat. Jesus, but he wanted it too. God have mercy on my soul.

"Ray Vecchio, fucking faggot." Ray gritted his teeth and glanced in the rearview mirror, where his father had appeared to lounge opposite Diefenbaker. His old man stared at him, eyes glittering with hate. Ray pulled up to the consulate, fingers whitening on the steering wheel. "Asking his goddamned faggot puttana home to stay in my house with my family."

Ray gritted his teeth at the obscenity. "You be careful tonight, Benny, and make whatever arrangements you have to with the Dragon Lady." He kept his voice even, knowing that his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Benny slipped out, giving him a last look, seeming terribly lonesome as he stood on the sidewalk clutching his hat and waiting for Diefenbaker to hop out and join him.

"Ma's gonna wonder where the hell I went. I gotta go home, but I'll see you tomorrow." Ray held Benny's eyes, trying to underscore the promise of his words. Benny nodded, just a little hesitant, then turned and entered the consulate alone.

Ray sat for a long moment behind the steering wheel, looking into the rear-view mirror, which now reflected only his empty back seat. "Fucking coward!" he spat, not sure whether he meant his father or his own failure to get out of the car and go inside with Benny to finish what they'd started earlier.

Everybody was in bed when he got home except Ma, sitting up and waiting for her Raimondo. She turned around, smiling relief.

"So late coming home, caro!"

"Sorry Ma." Ray hung up his coat and scarf. Might as well get things out in the open right away. "Ran into some police business. I asked Benny to come over and stay tomorrow night, and I'm gonna try to get him to live with us for a while. All he's got to sleep on is a lousy cot in that office of his."

She stiffened, pulling her housecoat around her shoulders. Ray pleaded with his eyes. Fraser hadn't been here since before Victoria. "Benton Fraser?" Chilly, no hint of pleasure or yielding in her face.

"Ma, don't be like that. Me and Benny are best friends." Ray met her glare with his best 'head of the household who pays the bills' look.

"Benton Fraser has always made my children suffer." Full of dignity, she drew herself to her full height, unimpressive though it was. It made Ray feel like he was in third grade.

"He made a mistake, ma. He's sorry. He isn't gonna do it again."

"What new troubles will he bring with him into my house?" She did not relent, her eyes sad. "Why would he come here now, after all this time?"

Ray felt a pang of guilt. Trouble? No trouble at all... just your dead husband thinks I'm a fucking faggot, and me and Benny are probably gonna prove him right. He's just a suspect in a murder investigation. No trouble at all.

His guilt metamorphosed subtly into anger, and he redirected it. "My house, ma." She drew breath to protest and Ray interrupted before she could find words, proud of the steel in his voice. "I have the title, I pay the bills, and if I want Benny to stay here, he's staying."

She set her jaw, looking a little bit like a white-haired female bulldozer. Ray sighed, holding up his hands to forestall her tirade. "It's late, Ma. We can argue about this tomorrow." Starting up the stairs, he jerked at the knot in his necktie and let the two loose ends dangle down his chest. "He can sleep in my room tomorrow night, so you won't have to get the guest bedroom ready. Just set an extra place for dinner." He took three steps, then glared down at her balefully. "And be nice. That goes for Frannie, too."

Her distressed, angry muttering pursued him upstairs, where he shut it out firmly, pushing his door closed and falling into bed, exhausted. It was settled, and that was that.

But it wasn't, as he learned when Benny called him late the next afternoon.

"Hello, Ray." Benny's voice sounded richer than it had, a hint of the heat that had flared between them showing in its timbre. "I'm afraid I won't be able to accept your hospitality tonight after all. Inspector Thatcher would like me to remain in the consulate overnight until we can hire a watchman."

"Benny, you need an alibi. There's never been a night watchman at the consulate!" Ray slumped with annoyance. Like the Dragon Lady hadn't pitched the mother of all fits when she realized Benny was essentially living in his office! "And what about... we still need to talk, Benny." Ray felt awkward bringing it up, squirming and glancing around the oblivious office.

"I'm sorry, Ray." Genuine regret colored Fraser's tones. "I'm afraid I have to go; I have a caller."

Ray hung up on the dial tone with a soft curse, staring across the room at Huey's desk. He wasn't in; he and Gardino were out canvassing for other people who might have seen the drop last night. Ray reached for a file, tapping it nervously against his blotter. Damn it. If the mountain wouldn't come to Ray Vecchio... then Ray Vecchio would go to the mountain.

Decisive at last, Ray tossed the file back in his in-box, got up, and grabbed his coat. Adjusting the collar, he started out, only to be stopped short by the sight of Huey and Gardino vanishing into one of the interrogation rooms. Maybe they were talking to the guy who claimed he'd seen Fraser. Ray trotted upstairs fast, quickly unfastening his favorite eavesdropping pipe. They were already talking by the time he settled.

"Anyway, I've got half a dozen whores that can place him on the street near the target times. Seems he's been doing a lot of hanging out with whores lately." Louis laughed unpleasantly.

"Maybe some kinda mercy mission." Good for Huey. "He's not... paying them, is he?" Or maybe not so good.

"Nah, they say he just wants to talk. He's out walking, and when he sees 'em, he makes nice. Asks them how they're doing, learns their names, even talks shop." Gardino sounded triumphant.

The gritting of Ray's teeth almost drowned out Huey's shocked "Talks shop?"

"Like a pro. What to do when a john won't pay 'em, where to get free condoms and medical help, dangerous stuff to watch out for, where they can get a cheap place to live or to board their kid while they turn tricks, where they can get financial help to go to school, you name it."

Ray cursed quietly. That was a mercy mission, if Louis only had the sense to see it.

"He's changed," Huey agreed quietly. "Everybody can see it but Vecchio. Time was when Fraser would have dropped his hat and swallowed his tongue if some whore came up to talk to him. At first he nearly did that whenever he had to talk to Elaine."

Ray's knuckles whitened on the piece of pipe he held, but he stayed quiet, listening.

"You think he did the drop?" Gardino sounded thoughtful.

"Not likely." Huey's chair creaked; he was probably leaning back against the wall. "I think if Fraser wanted to do something illegal, he'd be a hell of a lot smarter than that. I think if he'd gone bad, there isn't anyone in this department who could lay a finger on him."

A pause; evidently Louis had to consider that opinion. "I dunno. He used to seem too good, like nothing could touch him, like he'd never seen anything bad and didn't know what it was when he did. Guy like that wouldn't know how to pull off a clean crime if he had to."

"He had you foxed." Huey sounded smug. "Like he's got Vecchio foxed now."

"Fuck. He never had me foxed like he's got Vecchio." Louis sounded both amused and indignant. "I never met you on the bastard's doorstep at three AM, looking like some kinda blushing bride!"

"No you didn't," Huey agreed. "But then, you're so damned ugly Fraser'd never look at you."

"You trying to say I want him to? You better shut your fucking mouth, or I'll kick your ass." Gardino sounded a lot madder now, but Huey just chuckled. There was a sound like a slap, maybe a playful punch, and Louis's tone lightened abruptly. "Besides. I'm not half as ugly as Vecchio."

"Thank God for that." There was a burst of muffled laughter. "Let's go get the sergeant to send up our first girl. Maybe we'll turn up something, but I think it's a dead end. It sounds to me like Fraser's just gone on a 'save the whores' crusade. Wrong place, wrong time." The click of a door closing heralded their exit.

Ray stood there, shaking, fingers clamped tight around the pipe. They know. They fucking KNOW, and we've never even--. Somehow he managed to get the pipe back in place, his fingers numb and uncooperative. He had to get hold of himself.

Huey didn't think Fraser did it, that was the important thing. They were grasping at straws; they didn't have a case. All they had was some whores he'd taken pity on and one drunken 'witness.' They KNOW. No. Maybe they didn't mean it. Just shooting the shit. No. They know. Jesus Christ.

Ray looked down at his hands, smeared with dust from the pipe, and absently wiped them on his overcoat, oblivious to the smudges they left. He had to get out. Now. Before he freaked all over the place, here where people could see him.

The Riv felt like a haven, the contours of his seat familiar and comforting. Ray burned rubber peeling out of the parking garage, wanting nothing more than to get away from the Precinct as fast as possible. The kick of speed felt good, the power and control of the car sweet under his hands. Driving calmed him, paradoxically enough, even as he made a jackass of himself by powering through yellow lights and forcing his way into dicey merges.

He didn't go to the Consulate after all; better to spare Fraser his agitation. The guy had enough on his plate already. He could go over later after Benny's shift was through. He went home instead, finding the house quiet, His ma was probably out shopping, Tony at work, Maria and the kids in the park. Frannie was in the bathroom, like he might have expected.

Ray knocked once and then barged in, wrinkling his nose at the scent of hairspray.

"Whatcha think you're doing in here? I'm getting dressed!" She looked exasperated.

"Save it, OK?" She was already dressed, and it looked to Ray like she was finished with her makeup, too. Or near enough.

"I gotta know something, OK, and no bullshitting me here!"

Frannie turned around with one hand on her hip, impatient. "What?!"

"Why don't you chase Fraser anymore? Since he came home. Give it to me straight, and I know it's not that line of crap you fed Ma about me and IA. You'd feed me to sharks to get the man you wanted and you know it."

"You want me to chase Fraser?" That pulled her up short, she actually put down the hairspray and the mascara wand and turned to look at him with an incredulous expression.

"Did I say I wanted you to chase him? I asked why you aren't!" Ray banged down the lid of the toilet and slouched onto it.

She turned back around to the sink, staring at him in the mirror. "I haven't seen him much." The edge of annoyed sisterly aggression left her voice. "OK?"

"Why not?" Ray pushed. "You made sure you saw all you could of him before."

Frannie scratched her fingers through her hair, disarranging it, and snatched up her brush to start again. "Yeah, well, don't go telling him I said this, OK?"

"OK," Ray agreed, meeting her eyes, dead serious.

"Did you ever know somebody, like, in high school, and maybe you meet them at a class reunion, and they're a complete and total stranger?" She didn't wait for his answer. "Fraser's like that. This lost, sweet, shy guy goes off and when he comes back, he's..." she hesitated. "I used to think I could handle him. Maybe give him an education he'd never want to forget. Stop that squirming, I'm a grown woman." She banged her hairbrush down and whirled to face Ray, glaring at him till he sat still.

"Now he's not like that anymore. Now he's like... if I messed with him and he took me up on it, he'd be too much for me. I don't know what that bitch did with him while he was gone, but he's not sweet and shy anymore. Now he's just lost, and not in a good way either, you know what I mean?" She gestured helplessly. "Like he's angry, maybe... I dunno." She shook her head. "Or maybe he's... just needy. But being around him, it feels... dangerous. Like gasoline spilled on the ground. You're walking along thinking everything's fine, then maybe your shoe hits a rock and strikes a spark..." she shook her head. "Not that I think he's gonna explode, but if he did, you wouldn't know what you might get."

"He's still who he used to be. He's just hurt. He's just human!" Ray could hardly recognize the hoarse voice as his own. "You never saw who he was before he left, either."

"Well thank you very much for saying something so kind and considerate!" Frannie turned her back on him, her shoulders suddenly drawing inward, making her look small. "Like you knew who he was? In case you didn't notice, he hung you out to dry!" Her voice wavered on the verge of tears.

But Ray knew. Ray had seen. Ray had seen Fraser's eyes when the bitch had her claws into him, had seen the desperate man running to catch a train, had watched him hurt and bleed and struggle and refuse to give up, a hundred times. He'd watched the man he loved hang on a thread over a poker table and on a boulder silhouetted against snow and azure sky. Had tasted the intensity and the need of him in the sweetest, hottest kisses he'd ever known.

"I'm in love with him, Frannie." Ray stared at the tile floor, hearing the clink and shatter of a perfume bottle and her curse, not caring if it was for him or for the expensive perfume now escaping into the air in clouds of suffocating alcohol-sharpened sweetness. "And I... I think he loves me, too."

"Yeah, well, I knew that, Ray. I... just didn't think you did." Francesca wiped at her eyes, ignoring the broken perfume bottle in the sink. "You had to come in just as soon as I got my mascara on, didn't you?"

"Don't cry." Ray got up and awkwardly slid an arm around her waist, feeling ashamed and uncomfortable. He fumbled for a moment, then handed her a wad of toilet paper to blot at her eyes. "Aw, come on. Don't cry, Francesca. I need you to be strong for me now."

She sniffled a bit, nodding, her eyes lowered, dark mascara running a little underneath them.

"I'm gonna bring him home to stay with us for awhile. I know you care about him, and I'm glad you don't have any plans to, you know, come on to him any more." Ray shifted uneasily, hoping she wouldn't change her mind about that. "But Ma... Ma's not gonna be easy to deal with. Could you at least try to draw her off, even if you don't want to be around him?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that." Abandoning the ruins of her makeup, Frannie blew her nose and wiped it with the mascara-stained tissue, her shoulders rising and falling in a shuddering sigh. "You're sure about him, Ray?"

"I'd stake my life on him, Frannie."

She just looked at him for a long moment, then smiled a little shakily. "You gotta reach for your dreams," she commented, her voice soft.

"I am." Ray met her eyes with determination, not flinching away.

"So, can he kiss?" Mischief lightened her face suddenly.

"Frannie!" Ray turned as red as a beet and broke eye contact, nervously scuffing his feet.

"You have!" She crowed. "Way to go, bro." There was still an element of fragility under her amusement even though she was trying hard, and Ray loved her for it even as he seethed with irritation at her for prying out his secrets. "Maybe that's why he wasn't ever interested in me, huh?" She tried a chuckle, caught halfway between teasing and tears.

"Frannie...." Ray crushed her close in a hug, then stepped away, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, you know?" She nodded and sniffled again, wiping her face. "Thanks." He slipped out, leaving her to repair her makeup.

Ray went out and got in the Riv, drumming his fingers on his thigh, exhilarated and jittery in the adrenaline rush of his unexpected confession. It was too early to pick Fraser up, but Ray drove toward the Consulate anyway, and when he found himself cruising past an empty parking space close by, he snagged it and got out to feed the meter. Maybe Fraser'd have a light afternoon and they could talk some.

Ray nodded at the constable on guard duty. A man shouldered between them in a hurry as he hurried out of the Consulate onto the sidewalk. "What's up with him, huh?" No answer from the guard, of course. Ray shrugged and went inside.

Fraser's office was empty except for Dief, who lay on the single throw rug, panting quietly. Ray took a seat, trying not to fidget or feel nervous now that the forward thrust of his momentum was gone. After a moment he heard voices and zeroed in to listen.

Thatcher, the Dragon Lady. Mad, by the sound of it. Benny's voice answering her, softer and formal. Ray rolled his eyes. That woman ought to thank her lucky stars Benny wasn't the type to file harassment lawsuits.

A door opened and then shut sharply; moments later Benny stepped in, looking slightly flustered. "Ray." He nodded. "Did you happen to see Mr. Foster leave?"

"Nah. Place was empty when I came in." Ray shrugged.

Benny frowned. "We hadn't finished planning the tour for his church choir, or begun the paperwork for their travel visas."

"Maybe he'll come back." Ray eyed the papers spread out over Benny's desk. "You think a church choir group really wants to visit Whitehorse?"

Benny blinked at him. "I would, Ray."

"You're not a church choir group, Benny."

"Well, that's obvious, Ray."

Ray grinned, glad to see Fraser so relaxed. "You could be, though. Father Behan said he never saw so many people show up for practice." Ray scooted his chair up to Fraser's desk. "What's got the Dragon Lady's panties in a twist?"

"She's objecting to the expense of hiring a night watchman for the Consulate, Ray."

"What? That's ridiculous! She ought to be paying you to stay here if she thinks it's that important." Ray got up and started to pace. "We gotta get you an alibi, Benny. I eavesdropped on Huey and Louis today and I think they're this close to taking you off the suspect list." He held up his thumb and forefinger, pinching a few millimeters of air. "All we need is to have you accounted for the next time something happens."

Fraser frowned. "Well, I can hardly leave my post without giving Inspector Thatcher prior notice."

"All right, that's it." Ray collapsed into the guest chair and slapped his palms on his thighs. "You won't come to my house, I'm stayin' here. In my official capacity as a detective. And your friend, Benny."

Fraser smiled without smiling, his eyes warming at Ray. That was the Fraser Ray knew and had hoped to see again, his Benny. The one people thought wasn't there anymore, if they'd ever thought he was in the first place. Ray felt the room warming as he smiled back. All it took to get his Benny back was a kiss.

Ray settled back in his chair and tried not to grin, comfortably waiting while Fraser cleared the mess off his desk, enjoying the opportunity to watch him. He looked good in red, the color a natural contrast to his fair skin and dark hair. Perfect features, elegant nose and sculpted mouth. Perfect chin. Beautiful symmetry. Mellow, cultured voice cool and disciplined as he spoke on the telephone, white teeth just visible every now and again, flashing inside his mouth.

Ray knew the taste of that mouth, and the memory sent a frisson through him. When he looked back up at Fraser's face, blue eyes were looking back at him with rising heat.

Benny hung up and logged his telephone call; as he finished Inspector Thatcher stuck her head in.

"Did you come to a decision regarding your responsibility to guard the Consulate?" Her aggression came off as slightly nervous, a bit too abrupt, and she licked her lips at the conclusion of her statement. Her attention never flickered from Benny to Ray.

"Yes sir." Fraser responded levelly.

"Well?" She took a step forward and Ray couldn't miss how she stopped, her heels set slightly askew, emphasizing the line of her hip and waist. He shook his head and rubbed his jaw. She was as bad as Frannie used to be.

"I will remain here at night until the end of the week, sir. Provided that Detective Vecchio is permitted to accompany me in his official capacity as a representative of the City of Chicago." Benny lifted his head, facing her down quietly; the light caught in his eyes and hair, highlighting the handsome plane of his jaw.

Ray watched her notice, the only visible motion the contraction of her throat as she swallowed tightly. It was enough for him to know Benny was having his usual devastating effect. Surprisingly, Benny seemed to know it too; he held Thatcher's gaze with his own for a long moment, the air seeming to snap between them.

Ray tensed, not liking the energy he felt there one bit, his hackles rising. Dief glanced between the three of them as well, then laid his chin down on the rug, looking unhappy.

"Yes. Well. If that's your final decision, so be it." Again she hesitated, managed to break away from his gaze, then returned to it like a moth drawn to a flame-- a brilliant red flame with soot-dark hair. "Then if you won't stand guard at night, you'll stand guard during the day." She turned crisply on her heel and strode almost out of the room. "Starting tomorrow, until I say otherwise." One last drink at the well of Fraser's eyes, and she was out, pushing the door nearly to behind her.

Ray got up and moved to the door, pushing it open a little further and watching her through the crack as she stalked out of the Consulate, headed home. "I don't like her, Benny." And I don't like you being around her.

"The inspector is difficult to work with," Fraser agreed, and his chair creaked as he sat down. Ray blinked, realizing Fraser had rested his head in his hand, rubbing his eyes like he had a headache again.

"Benny?"

"I don't like doing that, Ray, but it's the only way to manage her." Benny sat back tiredly, directing his eyes up at the ceiling. "If I didn't keep her off-balance, my working conditions would be impossible. As such, I can manipulate her into allowing me to do essentially what I want, or at least reduce disciplinary action to a reasonable level."

"Like standing guard duty until further notice?"

"It's preferable to being dismissed, Ray."

Ray wondered if it really was. What he'd just witnessed smacked of dishonesty, and it nagged at Ray uncomfortably that maybe the others were partly right; his old Benny wouldn't have done that-- he didn't think. He couldn't be sure. Benny had always been a bit of a manipulator, now that he thought about it.

In any case, to Ray it felt uncomfortably like Benny was whoring himself out again, buying tolerance with looks and flirtation. No wonder he'd wanted a transfer. "You could gather evidence and file suit against her, you know."

"Inspector Thatcher is lonely, Ray." Benny looked distant, still staring at the ceiling. "That isn't a crime."

"Well, in my book, sexually harassing a subordinate is." Ray knew he sounded sulky.

Fraser's eyes slowly journeyed down to rest on him. "I believe you're jealous, Ray." His voice sounded a little husky.

Ray shrugged, nervous. "Well, what if I am?" He shifted. "She's a beautiful woman, Benny, and except for bein' a headcase, she's probably a pretty good one. She'd be good for you, good for your career. You two could climb together." He swallowed harshly; his throat felt dry.

"I think not, Ray. I believe that once the relationship was consummated, her interest would fade." Benny got up and came around the corner of his desk. "Additionally, I'm afraid any interest I might ever have developed in her pales in comparison to my interest in you."

How did he say that so calmly?

The digital clock on Fraser's desk flipped over to 5:00 precisely as Benny reached in and touched Ray's lips with a gentle fingertip. Ray let his eyes close and felt the soft touch shiver through him down to his toes.

"Do you want to order pizza?" Fraser's voice was smoky in his ear, and Ray blinked, finding Benny's eyes shining at him with humor and affection. Benny was playing him-- but it was as different from what he'd done with Thatcher as night from day.

"Yeah, OK." Ray grinned suddenly; as Benny's supervisor Thatcher might not be able to fight fire with fire, but nothing was stopping him. "Gotta keep my strength up."

"Yes." Benny reached to hit speed-dial on his telephone. This time the smoke in his tone was real. "You should do that, Ray."

After Fraser finished Ray called home and told them his plans, wincing when his mother hung up the phone sharply. Benny slipped out of his uniform tunic and hung it up, stretching wearily but looking a lot more comfortable.

They split the cost of the pizza and ate it while Ray watched a hockey game with Benny on the Consulate's tiny television set. Fraser seemed a little depressed again when it was over, and Ray elbowed him familiarly. "It's not the same since Mark was suspended, huh."

"The game lost a fine player that day." Fraser got up and closed the empty pizza box, tossing Dief a leftover crust. "It's getting late, Ray." His eyes flickered to the empty cot, then shuttered behind lowered lids as he left the office to dispose of the pizza box. Ray watched him go, mouth going dry at the subtle swing and play of Fraser's body, at the gentle motion of his hips and his arms. At the breadth of his shoulders and the gleam of the light in his dark hair.

Ray swallowed hard and reached to loosen his tie. He draped it over the back of his chair, and did likewise with his shirt and coat when he'd slipped out of them both, then folded his pants and laid them over the sheet. The air in the room felt cool on his bare arms and legs, and he tensed as Fraser came back in, not looking around to see Benny's reaction.

Sound told him all he needed to know; slipping slithering sounds and soft thuds. Prolonged. Benny was peeling out of the rest of his layers and his boots.

He turned to find Fraser's eyes on him. To Ray's relief, Fraser wore even more than he did-- a pair of red long underwear, tidily buttoned up to the throat. He looked uncertain; he held his bedroll between his hands but did not move to untie or unroll it.

"Benny..." Ray heard the hoarseness and shyness in his own voice. "You want a good night kiss?"

Fraser swallowed, Adam's apple working visibly. "I'd like that, Ray."

Ray stepped forward, feeling self-conscious and awkward, and took the bedroll, setting it out of the way on Fraser's desk. He slid his hands up the back of Benny's arms, feeling the rough weave of the red cloth against his palms and fingertips. Fraser sighed, a long and quivering sound, and lifted his mouth slowly to Ray's.

Third time. Curse, charm... or a little of both. Benny's mouth melted like ice cream, opening to Ray's tongue with almost helpless submission. Ray heard the small sound that escaped from his own throat, distant and yearning. He steadied Benny's head, sinking deeper. Stroking Benny's strong jaw with his thumb, he could feel the first traces of beard shadow growing there.

No point pretending he didn't know where this was headed or trying to let on like he didn't want it. It was bigger than Ray, bigger than both of them, spinning them out of control. Ray surrendered to it, letting go. Benny's warm tongue left his mouth and slid along the line of his jaw, and he let his head sink back, offering his neck to that knowing mouth, giving himself up to Benny's hunger... and accepting his own.

"Need you, Benny," he breathed, feeling the last of his uncertainty dissolve deep inside him.

"Ray..." Fraser's groan of agonized longing vibrated against his throat just at the pulse point. Still kissing him passionately, Benny pushed him back till his legs hit the cot, then they collapsed onto it, Benny guiding Ray over onto him, right in the center of the small mattress, their legs tangled. The frame squeaked a loud protest and Ray peeled his mouth away, surprised to find himself laughing with pleasure.

Fraser blinked, startled, then a shy smile stretched his mouth. They kissed softly, still smiling. Ray lay back and let Benny's heavy body press him deep into the lumpy mattress, his arms sliding around to cradle his friend. Laughter and kisses-- it always felt wonderful when love was this way, and it was good to see Benny's stern face soften into smiles, happiness easing the desperation.

Especially after the hell they'd been through together.

The long underwear gave Ray confidence to let his hands wander, exploring the contours of muscle and bone beneath the thick, warm fabric. Fraser lay still and let him, apparently content to nuzzle at Ray's neck, varying the soft kisses with licks and gentle nips.

"We're gonna get cold lying on top of the covers, Benny." Ray finally nudged at Fraser and he drew back reluctantly. "Let's get in and warm up." He heard the silky, sultry purr in his own voice and was almost shocked with himself, amazed that he could go from fear to desire so quickly. He was wryly amused with himself, too-- he'd used this same trick on a couple of girls when he was young; some of them would do a lot more hidden under a few blankets than they would out in the open. Strange to be using that sneaky tactic on himself.

Their embrace felt more intimate once they climbed under the covers and lay face to face, warmth building quickly as they nestled their bodies together tightly so they could both lie on the narrow cot. Benny sighed softly, snuggling in with obvious contentment, and it nearly broke Ray's heart. He'd once been used to sharing all his nights with Ange and knew very well how good it could feel just to lie down and curl up with someone you loved and trusted. He was used to being gentle and loving with the women who had shared his bed, including those before Ange and since, but the thought of sharing that kind of tenderness and trust with Fraser... it made his heart race and his stomach warm with a rosy glow.

Fraser. Benny. Here, and wanting him. Amazing that a man with such a beautiful body and sweet, wounded spirit could love Ray, but he did, and was willing to wait for what he wanted, if he must.

Not for much longer.

Ray gently let his fingers drift to the button below Benny's throat and deftly slipped it through its buttonhole. He heard Fraser swallow thickly and kept going downward, clearing his way to reach in to that smooth, hairless chest and let his fingertips wander across its span. Benny inhaled sharply, holding his breath, but Ray moved slowly, gliding over one prominent nipple, dipping into the moist warmth of an armpit, curving his palm over sturdy ribs.

Benny. Benton Fraser, in his arms. The same man who'd blithely ignored the interest of more lovely women than Ray could count, so beautiful he could have had anyone he wanted... and somehow, incredibly, he wanted Ray Vecchio. It seemed impossible, but here he was, lips parted, chest rising and falling like a bellows with rapid, urgent breaths. His nipples made little hard peaks that tantalized Ray's fingers, exotic and small. His body felt warm and amazingly responsive, moving restlessly and arching into every caress.

Benny squirmed, moaning softly as Ray lightly pinched his nipple, experimenting. Ray felt Fraser's thigh brush against his and blinked, realizing he still hadn't ever felt Benny's... well, his arousal.

He couldn't help but wonder how Benny was doing down there-- and a lot of other things, like whether that part of Fraser was as pretty as the rest of him, as solid and sturdy and... well, kissable. Ray's own long, slender cock was erect and heavy inside his boxer shorts, eager with anticipation in a way he'd never dreamed another man could make him feel.

He felt a brief pang of renewed nervous tension shoot through him and rejected it stubbornly. This was Benny. He couldn't imagine how intimacy with Benny could be unpleasant.

Ray slid his hand down and undid another button, then another, exposing Fraser's navel. He touched it briefly, thumb playing inside the shallow depression. The skin on Benny's belly was warm, living satin under his fingers. The slightest hint of coarser hair led downward from his navel, past another button.

Benny moaned, turning his head to Ray and mouthing blindly for a kiss, and Ray noticed the awkwardness of it, the way Fraser didn't let his lower body move as though he was afraid to let it touch Ray's-- hiding the extent of his arousal.

He unfastened another button, stopping when he noticed the sudden tension in Fraser's body. "Is this OK?" He licked the outer shell of Benny's ear tenderly. He flicked his extended fingers suggestively against Benny's abdomen, suggesting further motion in the same direction.

"Ray..." his name whispered on a breath, like a prayer. Fraser's hand moved to cover his, squeezing it briefly before giving the slightest nudge downward.

Permission granted. Ray smiled and took Benny's earlobe between his teeth, biting softly as he slid his hand downward and encountered wiry hair. He moved slowly toward Benny's hip, licking the captured lobe lightly, and his fingers grazed warm moist skin, soft and thin and shifting over hard flesh.

Benny cried out his need, bucking desperately, and Ray took him in hand at once, soothing him and gentling him by giving him what he needed. Familiar and alien sensations combined once again as Ray settled into the feel of holding Benny's cock in his hand-- fatter and shorter than to his own, but not too short and not too thick. A nice solid handful.

Ray slowly bent his knee and slid it across Benny's legs, shifting his body to let his own erection press experimentally against Benny's hip. He slid his hand up, a long, leisurely stroke. The sensation of extra skin gathered softly below tip of Benny's penis gave him pause; he blinked, then realized what it had to be. He explored the gathered skin lightly with his fingertips, curious about how it moved and how it felt. Benny moaned, deep and guttural, his hips twitching eagerly as Ray's thumb circled around the crown, exploring the sliding skin and the wet tip that peeked out of it.

This wasn't bad. Not bad at all. Like doing it for himself, only from the wrong angle. He bit at Benny's throat, the tenderness he felt so huge and tight inside him that it made him a little cruel in his passion.

"Ray... Ray... Ray..." Fraser whimpered his name over and over, shuddering violently with the effort of not moving, and Ray pushed him over on his back, settling some weight on him so he could have something to arch and buck against.

Fraser did, muscles straining, one arm sliding around Ray's ribs to pull him closer, the other clenching in the bedclothes. Fraser fumbled his hand under the back of Ray's undershirt, and it slid easily along Ray's sweaty back. Ray suckled the earlobe he held, keeping rhythm with his hand as he jacked Benny slow and steady, adding a little roll of his palm around the crown on each upstroke that made Benny gasp and hold him tighter.

Gaining confidence, Ray pulled back to enjoy the silhouette of Benny's profile. Lost in pleasure, Benny was even more beautiful than Ray had ever imagined he could be. Benny's tongue darted out to wet his lips and he cried out with abandon as Ray squeezed a little harder, picking up the pace. Benny's hips rolled, thrusting with him, and Ray let him move, enjoying the motion against his own cock.

"That's it, Benny." His voice roughened sensually. "You look like nothing I've ever seen. I wanna make you come. Wanna watch you come for me--"

And Fraser did, with a soft, almost startled "Oh!"

Benny's chin tilted up as orgasm overtook him, wet pulses sporadically slickening Ray's palm. Benny's body shuddered hard and his hand slid up to Ray's nape, holding Ray tightly as he burrowed into the shelter of his neck. Ray held him as the tremors subsided, wanting to stroke his flank but worried about the semen all over his hand... bad enough that Benny had it inside his long-johns.

"Aw Jesus, what a mess... I'm sorry, Benny. Here." Ray fumbled his hand out of Benny's underwear awkwardly and wondered if Benny had any tissues. "Let me help you clean up."

"Wait, Ray." Dark and commanding, a sated rumble, Fraser's voice sent shivers of lust down Ray's spine. Benny's body flexed, his arm tight around Ray, and suddenly Ray was pressed beneath about a hundred and eighty pounds of sultry Mountie. "We aren't finished yet." He caught Ray's hand, holding it motionless on the pillow, and leaned to lick it delicately, tongue-tip tickling Ray's semen-wet palm.

"Benny!" Ray protested, half aroused and half shocked, but nevertheless amused. "You'd lick anything, wouldn't you?"

Benny drew back, his mouth curving in a strangely shy smile. "Yes, Ray. If it belonged to you," he answered simply, and his fingers found the waistband of Ray's shorts. Before Ray could blink, Benny vanished under the covers and his hot, wet mouth was on Ray's erection.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Ray's brains melted and shut themselves off as Benny's mouth slid down and down and down, Christ, all the way down! Sweat broke out all over Ray's body, beading on his forehead as he struggled not to come.

"God!" Ray moaned, stroking his lover's hair helplessly. "God, Benny!" Fraser's hands lifted his balls, caressing and rolling them deftly, and Benny withdrew, then plunged down again, his mouth riding Ray's cock expertly, tongue playing as it moved in and out, throat muscles working around it when he held it deeply. His fingertips tickled and pressed behind Ray's balls, a tingling counterpoint to the wet suction of his devilish, talented mouth.

Then Benny moved away and Ray groaned, missing his touch, but it came back, nuzzling and kissing at his balls, and Benny hooked his arms under Ray's legs, lifting him a little, working lower.

Ray tensed, uncertain, but Benny's cock was nowhere near him, just Benny's wickedly sweet mouth, tongue licking at the sweat behind his balls, lapping at the flesh behind them, then-- there.

"Fuck!" Ray convulsed with shock, his body writhing. "Ohfuckohfuck, Benny, Benny, Benny...!" Fraser held him still, not letting him wriggle free, tongue teasing wetly at him, licking and playing and probing with determination. Probing, pushing... entering. Oh, Jesus, Benny's slick agile tongue was in him! Tickling lightly at the sensitive area just inside the surface, stretching the tense muscle persistently... undeniably inside Ray, causing dual sensations of shock and pleasure. Shocking pleasure, guilty ecstasy....

Benny hummed contentment against him, the gentle vibrations increasing the already overwhelming sensation. Benny's hand snaked around and curled around Ray's still-damp cock, stroking it in tandem with the thrust and retreat of his tongue. His other thumb crept to rest below Ray's balls and joined in the dance, massaging him deftly.

Too much pleasure to resist. Ray gave a choked wail and came, jetting fiercely, soaking the sheet. Benny pulled away softly and let his legs rest on the mattress again, moving to lick Ray clean like a cat. Feather-light, careful licks, cleaning Ray's come off his skin, and that was nothing compared to where Fraser's tongue had just been so Ray didn't waste his energy with a protest, lying quietly and letting his racing heart and his heaving lungs slow, calming gradually to normal as he tried to assimilate what had just happened to him.

Benny slid up and settled his head on Ray's chest and fell still with a last soft sigh.

Exhausted, limp as a dishrag, Ray felt dizzy, shocked in spite of himself by Benny's casual expertise with giving pleasure. He knew Benny wasn't an innocent by any stretch of the words, at least not anymore, but that had been even more than he'd expected. Overwhelming, both Fraser's actions and his own responses to them.

Well, at least now he knew he wasn't gonna freeze up, choke in the clutch. Jesus Christ, that was good. Yeah, he could definitely do the sex thing. At least, he could let it be done to him, and he could love it.

Fraser started to snore lightly, his breath fluttering across Ray's chest, and Ray stroked his hair gently. Uncertainties forgotten in the heat of passion returned full-force as he lay there, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling. They'd never even turned out the lights.

His thoughts chased themselves around his brain, a gradual and perverse spiral into fear. Gay, in a world that sometimes took gay men out into the wild and tied them to fences and beat them to death. Lover added to partner and friend, piled atop a relationship so fragile Benny had been ready to leave it just days before. And Benny's stunning, terrifying skill-- was what they did like love to him, or was it like being back on the job again, servicing a client, preoccupied with giving pleasure instead of making it mutual and taking his own?

How many men had Benny made love to that way? How could Ray tell whether he liked doing it or not, whether he was doing it because he wanted or whether he thought he had to? And if he did want it... how the hell could Ray satisfy him, equal him? Hell, there was no way he could come anywhere near keeping up! It was gonna be a cold day in hell before he put his tongue in anyone's asshole. Not even Fraser's. Hell, just thinking about putting his mouth on Fraser's cock made him twitchy!

Ray squirmed, nerves making him restless. This was not good, to go this far and then have second thoughts. That'd just kill Fraser; it'd finish him right off. He'd never stay if he knew just how scared Ray was right this minute.

He shivered and pulled up the blanket with his free arm, covering them both carefully. If they'd both been new to this, if they could've taken it slower, learned things together, tried stuff as they each got ready... maybe it would have been different. Unbearably sweet and tantalizing, like that first kiss. Slow and shy and fragile and beautiful.

This... this had been like sailing in calm seas that suddenly blew into a hurricane, like a campfire catching in leaves and flaring to wildfire.

Ray shifted again, and realized Benny was awake and looking at him; Benny's cheek lay over his heart and Benny could undoubtedly feel his pulse racing with increasing terror. Ray flinched like he'd just touched red-hot metal. Benny had a terrible look on his face; half-wild desperation and fear. Shit.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on." Ray lifted his hand to touch Fraser's shoulder, smoothing over his skin awkwardly. "Calm down. Don't get like that, Fraser."

"Like what, Ray?" Fraser drew taut as a wire.

"Like freaking out because I need to do some adjusting, here." Ray sighed. "It was just a little... different than I was expecting, Benny." He sighed and kept stroking Fraser's arm. "I guess I hadn't really thought about what it'd be like, except for kissing." Ray struggled for a way to explain. "It was almost like it wasn't you anymore; I didn't know--"

"This is me, Ray." Fraser's voice sounded husky and belligerent, defying Ray to deny it and to spurn him. Expecting him to-- expecting rejection and completely unable to withstand it. Something in those eyes wanted Ray's contempt and fear: something that danced deep in the flames of the purgatory where Benny kept himself imprisoned for not living up to impossible standards of perfection. Something that did not know how to be loved, but still craved love as much as it feared and distrusted all the things love brought. "This is me wanting you."

Ray blinked and averted his face, escaping the spell of those demonic, needy eyes. "That may be more than I can handle right away, Benny," he warned, torn between love and fear.

"Then why did you start it, Ray?" Benny's voice sounded like it'd been stripped raw by screaming, and Ray winced, knowing he'd confirmed the eternal expectation of pain behind those wounded eyes. "Why did you ever come to me to begin with?"

"I couldn't forget about you kissing me on the mountain." Ray mumbled, acutely ashamed. He could feel those eyes burning into him even while he avoided them. "It was..." Ray swallowed, gesturing helplessly. "Nice." Lame. Fucking lame, Vecchio.

"Wasn't this nice, Ray?" Benny sounded baffled and resentful now.

"God, Benny...." Ray dropped his free hand onto his forehead. "It was better than nice. It was..." he trailed off, gesturing helplessly, at a loss for words. "It was too much all at once." He fumbled awkwardly with the words. "I never did anything like this before, and it scares me. In case you didn't notice, we're both guys, Fraser."

"That has not escaped my attention, Ray." Still thin and low with pain, those dry husky tones.

"Well, where I come from guys don't do that to each other and think it's nice." Ray tried to explain. "And maybe I thought I was past that, but even if I am, I don't know what to do, or how to do it, and...!" His fist closed and came down on the edge of Benny's cot with surprising force. "This isn't easy for me, Fraser."

"Ray..." Fraser hesitated.

"Yeah, Benny?" Ray sighed wearily.

"It isn't easy for me either." Benny sounded wounded and lost. He moved his head off Ray's chest and lay stiffly on his side, but couldn't separate their bodies given the narrow cot.

Ray let him go, feeling saddened and guilty. "Do you want me to get the bedroll and sleep on the floor?" Ray turned to his side, meeting Benny's gaze. "Because I will if you want. But we gotta figure this out, Benny, understand what it means and where it's going. Where we want it to go. I just can't..." he swallowed. "I just need to move a little slower, Benny. Like, say we stick to handjobs for a while, because..."

Fraser looked at him without speaking, eyes opaque and guarded.

"...because I'm not sure I want to suck your cock yet, and I know I don't want to do that other thing you did." Ray flushed beet-red. Yet? Jesus. He made himself keep talking.

"God, it felt good, but... I always like to, you know, do things give and take, and I don't feel right taking something I don't wanna give back." Ray reached forward, catching Benny's arm in his hand, trying to pull him close again. Fraser resisted stubbornly, so Ray gave up and let his forehead lean against Fraser's, a clumsy caress. "I'm not Victoria and I want us together and I'm not leaving you all alone," he enunciated clearly. "You got that?"

Benny just looked at him doubtfully, blue eyes too close for fine focus. Ray nestled closer, tip of his nose touching Benny's. He nuzzled at Benny's nose gently-- the kind of thing they used to call an "Eskimo kiss" back in grade school. Pretty appropriate for a Mountie from the armpit of the frozen north.

Tender. Sweet. Not threatening, like the terrifying heat and intensity of what they'd done earlier. Benny's breath felt good on Ray's lips.

"Come on, Benny. It's me here. I'm not gonna leave you alone and you don't have to eat me alive just to make sure you get enough in one night to hold you forever, or explode the top of my head off to make sure I come back for more." Another gentle nuzzle.

"Did I do that, Ray?" Fraser didn't specify which, but he seemed slightly less tense than before.

"Yeah." Ray felt himself smiling in spite of it all. "Yeah, you did. We're gonna have to look for my bald spot in the morning."

Fraser chuckled with surprise, then looked thoughtful for a long moment, then relaxed against Ray, drawing a deep breath and releasing it. "Thank you, Ray. I suppose we should have talked before making love instead of after."

"Yeah, Benny, maybe we should." Ray pressed a kiss to Fraser's brow. In some strange way it helped Ray to understand that Benny was uncertain too, maybe even as far off his game as Ray was.

"Here. Roll over." Ray helped Benny get arranged next to the wall, then nestled up behind him, a much more comfortable position on the tiny cot. "Now let's get some sleep, OK, Benny?"

"All right, Ray." Fraser clasped Ray's hand against his chest, and soon they were asleep.

Ray discovered the hard way that morning came damned early at the Canadian Consulate. Benny woke him before dawn, coaxing him out of the uncomfortable cot with kisses and sending him upstairs to get ready for the day in one of the diplomatic suites' lavish bathrooms. It was a good thing he did. Thatcher showed up well before seven, demanding Benny's attention immediately even though he wasn't supposed to go on duty till eight.

Ray huffed at her overbearing manner and went back to buckling on his shoulder holster. He'd laid out his clothes so carefully that even on the second day he looked all right. "Whatcha say, Dief, you want to go find some--" Ray paused, noticing a pair of beat cops approaching the front desk. He strolled out, a flicker of worry fluttering in his belly as he heard one ask for Benny.

"What's up?" Notoriety had its uses; they recognized Ray and gave each other a troubled glance.

"New evidence regarding the prostitute murders." The taller of the two cops faced Ray. He looked like the type who wouldn't take any nonsense, lean and hard-eyed. "Jack Huey says it could be just what they need to clear Constable Fraser." His eyes shifted, betraying just the faintest flicker of nerves.

"Or to sell him down the river," Ray finished harshly. "Well, that's not gonna happen."

"Constable Fraser has to accompany us to the station house." No flinching, no backing down.

Well, fine. Get this over with for once and for all. It was another hour till he was supposed to go on duty anyway. Nonetheless, Ray fumed quietly as the secretary went to fetch Fraser out of Thatcher's office, and he fumed not-so-quietly on the ride to the precinct; the beat cops had insisted Benny ride in their squad car.

Ray and Dief followed close behind in the Riv. Trailing the wolf in his wake, Ray stalked up to Welsh's office to confront him. A couple of forensics personnel were there, one of them holding a biological sampling kit. Ray eyed them balefully.

"What's up?"

"We found another one late last night in a hotel." Welsh looked tired, like he'd had even less restful sleep than Ray. "This time there was physical evidence. Shreds of white cotton under the victim's nails and fibers in the bed. There were traces of semen on the victim and the cloth."

Ray blinked; that was considerably different from the usual MO. "You sure it's related, sir?"

"I called Huey and Gardino. They'll be here shortly." Welsh made a face at his cup of black coffee. "The desk clerk reported seeing a Mountie enter the hotel room in question."

Ray's mouth worked soundlessly for a minute. "Some freak in a rented costume. That stuff you found, it's not gonna match Fraser's." He threw back his shoulders and lifted his chin, letting his irritation show. "You gonna create an international incident, make him beat off in a cup?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm gonna do if I have to do it to catch this killer!" Welsh glared at him. The phone rang; Welsh answered tersely. "Yeah. OK, I'll send the team right down." He hung up and nodded to the Forensic techs. "Down in the interview room next to booking."

"Great. This is just great. The whole fucking Canadian government's gonna sue for harassment!" Ray ranted, blowing off steam, not caring that Welsh's mouth pinched into an angry white line. "Look. Fraser didn't do it, OK? He was accounted for all night last night. Sir," he added belatedly.

Welsh sighed. "Maybe so. We'll know in an hour if there's a match or not, all right, Detective?" Welsh sat down and took another slug of the coffee, made a bitter face again. "Now get outta my office and I'll call you when the results get in. That make you feel better?"

It didn't; only the sure knowledge that Benny had been with him last night made Ray feel better, and his certainty that whoever's semen was on that victim, it wasn't going to match Benton Fraser's genetic pattern.

An hour never passed so slowly; Ray must've drunk three cups of coffee and jittered back and forth through the squad room two dozen times before Huey and Louis showed up and went into Welsh's office, then emerged and headed down toward booking. He had time to make another few rounds before Welsh appeared at the door of his office, looking stressed.

"Fraser's on his way up with Detectives Huey and Gardino."

"So the lab cleared him?" Ray folded his arms, an 'I told you so' ready on his lips.

"There any witnesses for that alibi you say he has?" Welsh slumped behind his desk, moving his head up to stare at Ray with a tired look, the eyes in his lined face quiet and unstartled, eyes that had seen too much.

Ray blinked. "What? How the hell..." his mind whirled. "Sir. There's no way that's right. It can't be his!"

"Witnesses, Vecchio."

"Yeah. Me." Ray folded his arms. "I was with him all night. You can call Inspector Thatcher and ask her. I stayed at the Consulate in my capacity as an officer, to provide constant surveillance on a suspect."

"All night." Welsh frowned. "It'd be better if there was somebody else to verify the story. You're a biased witness, Vecchio." He shook his head. "Still, you're a cop, so your word will carry weight." He picked up a pencil and tested the point.

A knock heralded the arrival of Huey and Gardino, Fraser between them and the same pair of beat cops following, probably to make sure he didn't try anything funny. Ray winced, seething with fury. Welsh motioned everyone but Fraser out the door again, ignoring Huey and Gardino's protests.

"I spent the entire night at the Consulate with Constable Fraser." Ray spoke clearly and deliberately through clenched teeth, fixing Welsh with a glare. God, what a jury would make of that. "At no time did either of us leave the premises. During that time he spent approximately sixty seconds in another room on two separate occasions."

"During that time, what did you do?" Welsh continued the questioning smoothly.

"We watched hockey and ate pizza. You can verify that with the delivery boy; he saw both of us. Then we went to sleep. Maybe around eleven-thirty." Ray felt his stomach sink as Welsh's left eyebrow lifted.

"Detective Vecchio, did you wake during the night and verify Constable Fraser's whereabouts?" Again he pressed the logical train of questioning.

Ray hesitated, caught on the cusp of lie and truth. "No. No I didn't. But I believe that had Constable Fraser left the room, I would have awakened."

"How can you be sure of that, Vecchio?" Ray turned to Benny-- Benny's eyes, blue and fixed on him and full of too many messages to read. It was too late now to turn back.

"Constable Fraser and I shared the cot in his office." Ray heard the words fall with distinct individual clarity, like the final sentence being delivered at a trial. They seemed remote from him, as though he hadn't been the one to speak them. "He had the inside edge, next to the wall. My arm was around his chest. If he had attempted to leave the bed, I would have awakened immediately."

Welsh's hiss of surprise stabbed at his ears and shamed him beyond endurance, but Benny's eyes were steady on his, loving and comforting even though they were suddenly sparkling with suspicious moisture.

Ray clung to them like a lifeline, locking everything else in the world out.

-end-

End Day of Knowing (Paths I Fear To Tread 3) by Cara Chapel: cara_chapel@hotmail.com

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