Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/callinuk

Disclaimer: Due South and all of its characters belong to Alliance Communications

Author's Notes:

Story Notes:

Ray mumbled to himself as he ambled along the hotel corridor, squinting up at the doors looking for 1241. He turned a corner still cursing Lieutenant Matthews under his breath for sending him to meet with an officer from the RCMP. "Go liaise. You've done it before," he mimicked the lieutenant as he dodged a maid pushing her trolley down the corridor. "Oh yeah," Ray muttered sarcastically.

The last time he had liaised with Canada - or one particular Canadian - he had gotten his heart well and truly broken. At least with Stella, she had told him he sucked to his face. But Constable Benton Fraser was too polite for that. No he had written a note, and left their apartment one night taking his wolf and Ray's heart with him. And Ray hadn't seen or heard from him since.

After three wonderful months together, Ray had found himself alone again. He had managed not to fall apart completely, but had found it harder to cope than when Stella had left. His appetite deserted him, everything he did reminded him of Fraser, and the happiness he had been feeling disappeared to be replaced with a melancholy that he couldn't seem to shake no matter how hard he tried. Days and nights rolled by as Ray just existed. The days were easier - Ray started work early and stayed late in an effort to put off the inevitable - going home to his lonely apartment. But the nights seemed to drag, the silence deafening as he lay in the bed they had shared hugging Fraser's pillow close to his body trying to work out what he had done wrong.

He had picked the telephone up a thousand times to call Fraser, but an inner fear of rejection always made him slam the receiver down. Ray had lost count of the number of times he had started to write a letter, but each attempt had ended up screwed into a ball and thrown in the trash.

Ray still dreamed of Fraser. Still cried into his pillow some nights when the ache in his chest got too much and threatened to overwhelm him. The hollow, empty feeling never left him - he lived with it every day. And six months later, Ray still didn't know what he had done to make Fraser leave.

His lieutenant had looked at him funny when he had asked whether the RCMP officer was male or female. Ray glanced down at the piece of paper again; Room 1241 - Inspector Lucas. And definitely female, his lieutenant had assured him.

Finally arriving at room 1241, Ray knocked on the door. Glancing downwards, he noticed that his boots needed cleaning; he couldn't help smiling to himself as a memory of Fraser polishing his boots flashed into his mind.

"Good morning Ray," a familiar voice said as the door swung open.

Ray jerked his head up, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Unconsciously, he took a step backwards - away from Constable Benton Fraser - who was standing in the doorway, dressed in his brown uniform, a warm smile on his face.

Ray stared at Fraser, speechless and frozen to the spot - he wanted to hit Fraser, he wanted to cry, to scream, to kick the wall, the door, anything in his way. But most of all he wanted to run. Run away and hide so he could roll up into a ball, hugging himself to stop the ache that insisted on spreading across his chest. Ray took another step backwards - his emotions were churning around in his stomach and he felt sick.

Taking a deep breath, Ray tried desperately to compose himself, attempting to control the urge to run away. "Inspector Lucas?" Ray asked stupidly when he could get his mouth to work. He flushed slightly at his stupidity before dropping his head to study his boots again.

"No Ray. Inspector Lucas is my superior officer. She is currently in Toronto," Fraser replied calmly. "Come in," he stepped aside to allow Ray into the room.

Fraser sensed Ray's hesitation, and watched as a myriad of emotions flashed in Ray's pale eyes as he looked up again. Surprise, anger, hurt, misery and sadness played in the blueness as Ray shifted from one foot to the other avoiding looking at Fraser. Taking another deep breath, Ray stared directly into Fraser's eyes. Fraser couldn't help flinching at the icy glare that Ray shot him. This was going to be harder than he had thought.

Ray finally made up his mind, and stomped into the room. Turning, he stared at Fraser. He jutted his chin out defiantly as he folded his arms tightly across his chest as though he was protecting himself. "So," he said, his voice cold and businesslike. "What can the CPD do for the RCMP?"

"I thought," Fraser hesitated for a moment. "That we could talk before we get down to business," he leaned forward to touch Ray's arm.

"Talk," Ray flinched away tightening his arms around his own body as he let out a sharp laugh. "Talk. There's nothing to talk about. I loved you. I thought you loved me. I screwed up. You left. Dot it. File it. Stick it in a box marked done," he shouted the last word emphasising its meaning.

"Ray. I'm.....," Fraser started to protest.

Ray leaned close interrupting Fraser mid-sentence. "Don't," he snarled, his hot breath seemed to slap Fraser's skin in icy blasts. "If you say you're sorry, I will kick your.... your ass up and down that corridor," Ray stabbed his finger at the door, his body bristling with barely controlled fury. "And there is nothing," he poked his finger at Fraser's chest. "That I want to talk to you about. Ever."

"But I want....," Fraser tried to protest.

"I don't care what you want," Ray shouted. "I don't care about you. I just want to get this over with." He glared at Fraser.

Fraser held Ray's glare. "Understood," he said calmly taking a step backwards.

"Good," Ray snapped shoving his hands into his pockets. "Now let's get this over with so you can go back to where you came from. And I can get on with my life."

"As you wish," Fraser said defeated as he moved towards the table picking up a brown file. "The RCMP are very interested in finding this man," he handed Ray a photograph, becoming businesslike. "And we have reason to believe that he is in Chicago."

Ray glanced down at the photograph. "Why?" he handed the photograph back to Fraser, careful not to touch his hand.

"Paul Jenkins stole some Inuit art from the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto last week," Fraser explained. "And we have to reason to believe that he brought it to Chicago to sell."

Ray shifted. "Why here?" he asked again. "Why not somewhere in Canada?"

His cousin Cole Anderson lives in Chicago," Fraser cocked his head to one side. "And if our information is correct, I believe Mr. Anderson deals in fine art."

"Oh yeah," Ray snorted as he began to pace up and down the room. "Mr. Cole Anderson deals in fine art of the stolen kind," he stopped in front of Fraser. "He is also a cold blooded killer. He would kill his own mother for a piece of art."

"Ahhh," Fraser flicked through the file. "It would appear that some information is missing from the RCMP file."

Ray snorted again. "It would appear that some information is missing from the RCMP file," he mimicked. "Gimme that," he snatched the file from Fraser's hand flinging it onto the table. He turned stomping towards the door. "Lucky for the RCMP that the CPD files are up-to-date," he said. Ray glanced back over his shoulder as he yanked the door open. "You coming or staying?" he asked.

"Coming," Fraser grabbed his stetson and followed Ray out of the door and along the corridor.

They had been driving for several minutes. Ray concentrated on the road, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel. "I can do this," he thought to himself repeating it over and over in his head. Whatever it took, Ray was determined to get through the assignment with Fraser. He wouldn't let himself feel anything, but after they were done, Ray would go back to his apartment and allow himself to fall apart alone.

"Where are we going?" Fraser interrupted his thoughts.

"You want your Inuit art back?" Ray glanced sideways at Fraser. "You want Paul Jenkins?"

"Yes," Fraser replied. "Of course."

"Then we are going to Cole Anderson's place of business down in the warehouse district. And wait to see if your Mr. Jenkins visits his cousin. OK?" Ray said as he turned his head to look back to the road, ignoring Fraser.

The remainder of the journey was undertaken in total silence - the atmosphere of the GTO was uncomfortable, seemingly charged with electricity and unspoken emotion. Ray was unusually still, his body coiled tight, as if one word from Fraser would set off an explosion that neither of them would be able to control. Ray pulled into the warehouse district carefully parking the GTO behind some large wooden crates. He pointed towards a door - a large sign reading "Anderson Freight" hung over the door. "Now we wait for your Mr. Jenkins," Ray slumped down in his seat.

Fraser sat silently, his stetson resting on his knees. He cast surreptitious glances towards Ray. He could almost feel the tension reverberating through Ray's lithe body as he stared out of the window, lost in his thoughts.

Fraser sighed to himself, not being able to believe that he had given up this man. Ray was beautiful - even angry and hurt, Ray was beautiful. Fraser desperately wanted to hold him again, hear him whisper his name in love and desire. How could he have thrown his chance of happiness away so easily?

Fraser had spent a miserable six months trying to work out in his head what he had been thinking of that night when he had packed his bag. He had written a note to Ray, taken Diefenbaker, and run away to Canada. And he had regretted his actions every day since. Fraser knew that he had hurt Ray deeply, and didn't know how to put it right.

It had taken a trip to his father's cabin and a long talk with Buck Frobisher to get himself and his emotions sorted out. Buck had sat patiently listening while he had talked for over two hours. Then Buck had got to his feet, and given him two pieces of advice. Firstly, he had said that love was a rare gift, and those offered it should take it with both hands. And secondly he advised Fraser to come back to Chicago and beg - on his knees if he had to - for Ray's forgiveness.

Fraser had been preparing to fly to Chicago when the assignment to find Paul Jenkins and the missing Inuit art had come along. Jumping at the opportunity, he had persuaded his Inspector to request Detective Kowalski as a liaison. He knew that Ray was unlikely to want to have anything to do with him if he just arrived unannounced. The assignment had come along at the right time, and as far as Ray's lieutenant had known, Inspector Lucas herself was arriving in Chicago to liaise with the CPD. Fraser had gotten his wish. He was sitting in the GTO with Ray, who was ignoring him, refusing to talk to him, and bristling with unbridled hurt and anger. "So far, so good," Fraser sighed to himself.

Fraser shifted slightly. "I understand that you're not with the 27th precinct any more," he said.

Ray shrugged his shoulders glancing at Fraser. "Needed a change of scene." He turned back to stare out of the window, not wanting to tell Fraser that he had left the 27th precinct because there were too many memories there. Every corner he turned reminded him of Fraser, and he had been driving himself slowly crazy. "How's Dief?" he asked.

"Diefenbaker is just fine. He's staying with a friend while I'm in Chicago," Fraser replied with a smile. "Although he misses you."

Ray shrugged, not wanting to admit that he missed the wolf, almost as much as he had missed Fraser. "Thought you'd go back to the Northwest areas," he said.

"Territories," Fraser automatically corrected. Ray scowled at him. "No," Fraser quickly continued. "I decided to take a posting in Toronto at the RCMP Head Quarters."

"The mother ship," Ray murmured to himself. "Thought you were more of a country boy than a city boy."

"I decided I needed a change," Fraser answered not wanting to admit to Ray that he had chosen Toronto because it was nearer to Chicago and him. He hated the city and his posting, but Fraser hadn't been able to bear to be too far away from Ray.

"Aint that a fact," Ray pulled a face before turning to stare out of the window again.

Fraser silently cursed himself - Ray had misunderstood, and probably thought he had meant a change from being with him. "You suck," he thought to himself using one of Ray's favourite sayings.

They sat in an icy silence observing the warehouse, watching for Paul Jenkins to visit his cousin. The morning rolled into afternoon. A movement caught Fraser's attention. "Ray over there," he pointed towards the warehouse. Three men stood outside the door. "Paul Jenkins," he indicated the man in the middle of the group.

"Bingo," Ray shifted position grabbing for the radio. "That's Cole Anderson and his muscle Jimmy West with your man." The three men were engrossed in a conversation. "Unit 144 requesting back up at Low and Fifth," Ray said as he glanced towards the men. "Suspects are about to enter the Anderson Freight building."

Ray slid out of his seat, checking that his gun was in place. Fraser joined him, and the two men quietly made their way towards the warehouse entrance. Ray signalled Fraser down as they ducked behind a large wooden crate. "I take it you still don't carry a gun?" he asked drawing his weapon. Fraser shook his head. "OK," Ray sighed. "You listen and you listen good," he stabbed a finger at Fraser. "I've got the gun. You have air. So you do what I say. OK?"

Fraser nodded his agreement, but Ray remained unconvinced. "I mean it Fraser. I don't know about Jenkins, but Cole Anderson and his buddie Jimmy are cold blooded killers."

"I thought you didn't care about me," Fraser pointed out calmly.

"I don't," Ray scowled as he started to move forwards. "Off your ass and follow me," he waved Fraser towards the warehouse entrance.

One on each side of the door, Ray counted to three before pushing the door open with his boot. Gun drawn Ray stepped into the warehouse with Fraser behind him. Keeping low, they crept along a dark corridor towards the main area of the building. Stopping at the sound of voices, Ray and Fraser ducked behind a stack of packing crates. Ray, his gun held low, carefully peered over the top of the crates. The three men were standing in the middle of the warehouse, the table in front of them laid out with small artefacts.

"This is good stuff," Anderson was peering at an artefact. "Good work Paul," he slapped his cousin's back hard.

"So you think you can sell it Cole?" Jenkins asked as he shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"Oh yeah," Anderson replied. "I got just the buyer for this kinda stuff. And do you know what's funny?" he slapped his cousin's back. "It will end up going back to good old Canada."

"You're kidding right?" Jenkins looked surprised.

"No," Anderson cackled. "My buyer is an honest to goodness Canadian. But don't you worry, he'll give a good price for this kind of stuff."

Ray and Fraser watched as Anderson and Jenkins carefully packed the artefacts into small boxes. Jenkins taped down the lids before starting to carry each of the boxes to a black jeep parked by the back entrance to the warehouse. "What shall we do now?" Fraser whispered.

"We are doing this my way," Ray answered. "So we wait for back-up."

"But," Fraser protested. "They look like they are about to leave. We could lose them," he started to get to his feet.

Ray pulled Fraser forcibly back down by the sleeve of his jacket. "If you move again, I will shoot you myself," he snarled. "Now I said we wait for back-up."

"But Ray," Fraser argued.

"Fraser," Ray hissed. "Keep still. And keep quiet." He shifted position to get a better look at the men. "If you have anything to say from now on, write me a note. You're good at that."

Fraser sat back on his haunches stung by the bitterness of Ray's words. He was just about to open his mouth to protest again when he felt something cold press into the side of his neck. Turning his head slowly, Fraser looked up at a grinning Jimmy West. "Oh dear," he murmured. "Ray," he gently tapped Ray's back.

"What did I tell you?" Ray swung around angrily to see Fraser being dragged to his feet by Jimmy West, a gun held to his head.

"Up," West mouthed. "And throw that," he waved his gun at Ray. "Over here." He returned the gun to Fraser's head. Keeping his eyes on West, Ray slowly got to his feet. Arms outstretched, he carefully placed his gun on the floor, kicking it towards West with his foot. "Now walk," he motioned Ray forwards with his gun pushing Fraser in front of him.

"Look what I found hiding back there," West shoved Ray and Fraser towards Anderson and Jenkins. "I think they're art lovers."

"RCMP," Anderson sneered at Fraser as he drew his own gun. He poked Ray with the gun. "And who might you be?" Anderson circled around Ray looking him up and down.

"Me?" Ray looked around him theatrically. "Who wants to know?" he grinned cockily.

"Smart ass," Anderson shoved Ray forwards onto his knees. Ray grunted as he hit the floor. Fraser started to move as if to help, but Ray caught his eye shaking his head slightly, his hand moving towards his boot. Fraser straightened sensing immediately what Ray was planning. The three men were laughing, and hadn't noticed the exchange between Ray and Fraser. "With a smart mouth like that, he must be CPD," Anderson cackled to his associates. "Stay down," he ordered Ray with a wave of his gun. Ray grinned up at him as he crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knees. "And Jimmy," Anderson commanded. "You cover the Mountie." West moved to stand next to Fraser, his gun jabbing into Fraser's side.

"What are we gonna do?" Jenkins asked. "They probably already called their cop buddies."

Anderson narrowed his eyes at Fraser and Ray considering. "Well. First we are gonna finish loading up the stuff," he waved his gun at the jeep. "Then Jimmy here will deal with our cop friends." Jenkins nodded, casting a nervous look towards Fraser and Ray before picking up a box and moving over to the jeep.

"Now Fraser," Ray yelled as he leapt to his feet, boot gun in hand. He charged towards Anderson, who turned in surprise. Slamming into Anderson hard, Ray knocked him to the ground. Startled Anderson let go of his gun and it clattered to the floor. Ray kicked the gun out of reach before placing his foot in the centre of Anderson's chest aiming his gun at his head. "Twitch," he threatened. "And you'll never see another painting." Ray smiled as he heard the wail of police sirens in the distance.

At Ray's yell, Fraser shifted slightly hitting West hard in the stomach with his elbow. As West bent double in pain, Fraser chopped his hand down on the back of his head; the man hit the floor unconscious. Fraser grabbed his gun.

The sound of vehicles screeching to halt echoed around the warehouse. Jenkins bolted towards the door trying to make his escape but ran straight into uniformed police officers. He backed into the warehouse, his hands above his head. "Don't shoot," he whimpered.

Half an hour later.....

Perched on a wooden crate, Ray watched as the men of his precinct dragged the three men out to the waiting police vehicles. Fraser was overseeing the loading of the Inuit artefacts into another vehicle in preparation for the journey back to Toronto.

"Good work Kowalski," Lieutenant Matthews slapped his back. "Report on my desk by tomorrow afternoon. OK?"

"Thanks," Ray answered. "You can rely on me to get my report done in my usual efficient way."

Matthews raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah. Like I believe that," he chuckled moving towards his vehicle.

Ray stared at his boots distractedly as he sensed Fraser walking towards him. He looked up as Fraser spoke. "Thank you for your help in recovering the Inuit artefacts," Fraser said with a smile. "The RCMP and the Royal Ontario Museum will be very grateful."

"Our pleasure," Ray slid off the crate shoving his hands into his pockets. He started to walk towards the warehouse door.

"Ray," Fraser called hurrying after Ray. He touched his arm, and could feel the tension radiating from Ray's body. Fraser sensed that Ray was retreating into himself, moving away from him, and it made his heart ache for their lost love - a love he had simply and carelessly thrown away. "Ray."

"No Fraser," Ray murmured as he pulled away from the touch, keeping his back turned away from Fraser. Ray sensed Fraser stepping back and he clenched his fists into balls closing his eyes against the sudden pain in his chest. "Go home to Canada. And leave me alone," he headed towards the GTO.

Fraser bit at his bottom lip as he watched Ray slide into the GTO. The engine roared into life - with a squeal of tyres, Ray drove out of the warehouse district. Fraser wiped at his tears with his sleeve. "Oh Ray," he choked.

"Why me?" Ray mumbled angrily as he stomped along the hotel corridor to room 1241 once more. "What have you got against me?" he looked heavenwards. "On second thoughts, don't answer that," he decided before taking a deep breath. Ray knocked on the door.

"Ray," Fraser looked surprised as he opened the door.

"Don't get excited," Ray snapped as he marched into the room. "Just delivering some papers for release of them Inuit artefacts," he thrust a file at Fraser. "CPD needs your signature before we release them on Friday."

"Ahhh I see," Fraser closed the door. "Let me get a pen," he moved over to the night stand. Opening the file, Fraser quickly scanned the documents. "It seems to be all in order," he looked up at Ray. Ray looked away studying the wall to his right. Fraser sighed as he endorsed all of the relevant paperwork. Closing the file, he stood offering it to Ray.

"Thanks," Ray snatched the file from Fraser's hand. Their hands accidentally brushed; Ray pulled his hand away as if he had been burnt. Time seemed to slow as they stood staring at each other. Ray shifted looking down at the floor. He looked up again. "Bye Fraser," he finally murmured as he turned towards the door.

Buck Frobisher's words echoed in Fraser's head as he watched Ray open the door, preparing to walk out of his life forever. Mind made up. "Ray," he said taking a deep breath. "Would you have dinner with me? I could order room service," Fraser moved towards the telephone. "Please."

Ray stopped in his tracks, and Fraser could sense the tension running through Ray's frame. Slamming the door shut, Ray whirled on him angrily. "Just what makes you think that I would wanna have dinner with you," he yelled stepping into Fraser's personal space. "You," he stabbed a finger at Fraser's chest. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick you... you in the head?"

"Is I love you," Fraser asked. "A good enough reason?"

Ray paled stepping backwards. "What?" he slumped down on the bed, his anger dissolving at the words. He looked up at Fraser. "What did you just say?"

"I said," Fraser risked a step closer. "That I love you. With all my heart."

"That's what I thought you said," Ray closed his eyes as a sudden tiredness washed over him. "You've never said that to me before," he murmured opening his eyes. "Not even when we ..... we were together."

"I know," Fraser looked down at his boots, flushing slightly. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Ray shouted jumping to his feet. "Now you're sorry. I don't get it Fraser," he began pacing the room. "You up and go one night. Leave me a note. Never call or write. Just go," he turned back to Fraser. "Then you come back six months later, and tell me you love me. Call me stupid. But am I missing something here?"

"You're not stupid Ray," Fraser took a step towards Ray. "I'm the stupid one. I left the only good thing in my life. The best thing. And have spent the last six months regretting my actions. Regretting the stupid note. Everything."

"I was so happy. So in love with you," Ray slumped back onto the bed. "And then you left. And I didn't know what I had done wrong," he looked up at Fraser. "I thought we were forever."

"Oh Ray," Fraser sat down next to Ray entwining their fingers together. "You never did anything wrong. You gave me all of your love, never asking anything in return. And all I ever did was hurt you. I didn't know what I was doing that night. But I was... was afraid. Afraid that I couldn't love you back the way you really deserved to be loved." He squeezed Ray's hand. "You are so beautiful. So warm, kind and funny. And you deserve to be loved by someone worthy of that love."

"And you didn't think that person was you?" Ray asked gently.

"No," Fraser shook his head. "So I took the coward's way out and ran away. And ended up making us both miserable."

"You should have stayed," Ray whispered as he squeezed Fraser's hand back. "We coulda worked it out... out together. That's what people in love with each other do."

"I know that now," Fraser picked at the seam of his trousers distractedly. "Buck Frobisher told me that love was a precious gift. That I should take it with both hands when it was offered."

"Buck Frobisher gave you advice?" Ray said surprised. "You told him about us?"

"Yes Ray. I told him everything. I.... I didn't have anyone else I could turn to," Fraser turned to face Ray. "He also said I should get down on my hands and knees and beg for your forgiveness."

"He did?" Ray raised his eyebrows. "Good man Buck," he smiled slightly.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Fraser asked, his expression serious. "I'll get down on my knees if that's what it will take for you to forgive me?" he offered as he started to slide off the bed.

"No. I don't want you to get on your knees," Ray tightened his hold of Fraser's hand pulling him back onto the bed. He ran his hand down Fraser's face, tracing a finger along his lips. "I just want you to hold me. And tell me that you won't leave me again."

Fraser smiled leaning towards Ray. They sighed as they wrapped their arms around each other pulling the other close relaxing into the embrace. Ray buried his head into Fraser's shoulder. "I was driving myself crazy trying not to love you," he whispered. "I wanted to hate you, but I just couldn't."

"I'm so sorry Ray," Fraser murmured into Ray's hair. "I suck," he mimicked one of Ray's favourite sayings. "I deserve to be kicked in the head for leaving and hurting the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Freak," Ray chuckled as the pulled out of the embrace. "But you're my freak, and always will be." Leaning closer, he looked into Fraser's eyes. "Tell me that you love me again," he whispered.

Fraser caressed Ray's face gently. "I love you," he smiled. "I have always loved you. And I always will." He kissed Ray's lips softly. "And I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

"You mean that?" Ray bit his lower lip, still anxious.

"Mounties' honour," Fraser pushed Ray back onto the bed claiming his lips in a passionate kiss.

"Ben," Ray breathed as he surrendered to the kiss. "I love you. Never stopped."

Fraser rolled, pushed and manoeuvred them until they were laying stretched out side by side. Ray wriggled out of his jacket and shoulder holster casting them over the edge of the bed. His boots hit the floor with a thud. They smiled at one another, their hands softly caressing the other's face. Shifting slightly, they leaned into a kiss, their lips touching gently at first. As their passion overtook them, their hands and lips re-discovered the other's body as they kissed, stroked, fondled and caressed.

Hands fumbled slightly as they stripped each other of their shirts throwing them untidily onto the floor. Fraser licked his lips as he ran his hands over Ray's pale skin exploring every ridge and dip of Ray's chest. Ray moaned, writhing at Fraser's determined onslaught, arching his body up into the caresses. Claiming Ray's mouth again, Fraser pushed his tongue at his lips demanding entry. Ray sighed as he opened his mouth, his tongue greeting Fraser's as they licked and nibbled at each other.

Ray pulled away from the kiss, licking a trail down Fraser's neck to his shoulder. Fraser whimpered as Ray bit into his shoulder blade marking him. Ray chuckled as he flicked his tongue out, lapping at the red mark soothingly. He trailed his tongue back up Fraser's neck towards his lips, which he claimed in a passionate kiss.

Fraser pushed a hand between their bodies roughly massaging Ray's groin. Ray jerked into his hand, and Fraser growled in the back of his throat as he felt Ray's penis hardening in his hand. In two swift movements, Fraser undid and removed Ray's jeans and underwear throwing them onto the floor to join their shirts.

Ray whimpered in protest as Fraser sat up. "Boots," Fraser grinned down at Ray. "Got to get the damn boots off," he leant down to unlace the offending articles.

Ray giggled as he lay back down on the bed watching as Fraser began to unlace the boots. Wanting to tease Fraser, he spread his legs idly fondling his cock as he stroked his fingers lazily up and down the length running his thumb over the leaking head.

"Ray," Fraser growled. He fumbled with his boot laces as he ran his eyes up and down Ray's lean body. Sprawled on the bed, legs apart, Fraser thought Ray was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Fraser drank in the sight of his Ray and his beauty - from the outline of Ray's rib cage, to his erect nipples to his flat stomach, narrow hips and firm thighs. His penis - heavy with arousal - rose out of course blonde hair. His pale skin was shiny with sweat as he caressed himself.

Ray grinned up at him mischievously. His hand still lightly stroking his penis, he thrust his hips upwards in an erotic movement. "Don't," Fraser threatened as he hurriedly ripped the last of his laces undone. Pulling off his boots Fraser cast them aside before struggling out of his trousers and underwear. His body pulsed and throbbed with arousal as he took another look at Ray's nakedness.

Aching to touch Ray again, he slid onto the bed grabbing Ray's hand. "Mine," Fraser breathed as he wrapped his hand around Ray's cock. Ray jerked into his hand with a loud groan.

"Oh yeah," Ray sighed as he pumped into Fraser's hand. Shifting slightly, Ray moved his hand down to Fraser's cock stroking at the hardness. Fraser groaned in ecstasy capturing Ray's lips in a kiss. They thrust and jerked against each other, revelling in the feelings they were evoking in one another. Releasing their penises, they touched and caressed each other's dampened skin. Droplets of sweat were licked and lapped up as their tongues explored one another's body.

Rocking against each other, they delighted in the friction as their cocks rubbed and glided together. Their need became more urgent, and they moaned in unison as they picked up the rhythm grinding against each other thrusting harder and harder. They chanted each other's name as they moved towards their release.

Fraser let out a long moan as he came pressing his body closer to Ray. His penis pulsed as he fell towards his climax. He rammed his penis against Ray's body over and over as his orgasm overwhelmed him. Shooting his semen over Ray's belly and thigh, he gasped Ray's name in need and desire. Ray answered with a cry, shouting Fraser's name, as he came hard, his climax tearing through his body as he jerked uncontrollably, his penis spurting his seed over Fraser's belly and leg.

They continued to pound against each other kissing one another hungrily as they reached the final throes of their orgasm. Finally spent, they lay together side by side, hand clutching hand, as they tried to get their breathing under control. Ray recovered first - grabbing a t-shirt, he cleaned them up before laying back down with Fraser. Tugging the comforter over them, Ray pulled Fraser close as they entwined their legs and arms together.

They lay in silence, snuggled together, luxuriating in their love making giving each other a soft kiss occasionally. "Ben," Ray wriggled in the embrace. "When are you going back to Toronto?"

"Never," Fraser kissed Ray again. "I'm staying here with you."

"But what about your job?" Ray wriggled until he was up on one elbow staring down at Fraser. "What about the Inuit treasure?"

"Ray," Fraser pulled him back down hugging him hard. "I don't care about my job in Toronto, or the treasure. All I care about is you."

"But," Ray protested wriggling in the embrace. "You love being a Mountie. I can't ... I won't.."

"Ray," Fraser silenced him with a kiss. "I will request a transfer back here to Chicago. I understand that there is an vacancy at the Consulate." he kissed Ray again. "And as for the treasure, I can arrange for another RCMP officer to take it back to Toronto." He kissed Ray again. "Unless you can take some leave and accompany me and the treasure back to Toronto."

"Yeah. I got some leave owing. So I could come back and help you pack your stuff," Ray smiled. "And get the furball."

"That's settled then," Fraser smiled at Ray. "I can then arrange my transfer. And we can then return to Chicago together."

"You really mean it?" Ray asked still anxious. "That you're gonna come back to stay? Here? With me? In my... our apartment?"

"Yes Ray," Fraser smiled. "I thought I had lost you, but I found you. And I have no intention of ever letting you go again."

"Oh yeah," Ray breathed rolling close to Fraser kissing him softly. He broke off the kiss with a grin. "So about this room service? Do you think we could order now?" he teased. "Sex makes me hungry."

"Sex makes me hungry as well," Fraser laughed as he waggled his eye brows seductively. "But not for food," he rolled on top of Ray kissing him hard.

"Oh yeah," Ray breathed pressing up into the kiss.

THE END

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End Lost and Found by Callie: callinuk@yahoo.com

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