Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrow them.

Rated PG for m/m love.

Grief

Ray wearily fished his keys out of his pocket, letting himself as quietly
as possible into the darkened apartment.  He hated these late-night shifts;
not only did they throw his internal clock all out of whack, but it cut
down on the time he spent with his lover.

Tiptoeing into the living room, trying to get rid of his coat and boots
without waking Mountie or wolf, he suddenly caught sight of the silhouetted
man standing by the window.  He gasped, hand going to his chest to try
to appease his racing heart.

"Jesus, Ben, gimme a heart attack, here, why don't you?" 

"I'm sorry, Ray," Fraser whispered, not looking away from the window.
Ray's brow furrowed in concern, and he quickly approached Fraser, gently
placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong, Ben? You're up kind of late..." he asked. 

Fraser sighed,leaning slightly into his lover's touch.  Drawing a trembling
breath, he said, "Sandra Schmirler died."

Ray frowned. Who the hell?  "Was she a friend of yours?" A cold shudder
ran through him. A former lover? He was slightly relieved when Fraser
shook his head.

"She was one of Canada's greatest curlers." 

Ray stared at him blankly for a second.  "A curler?  This is a curling
thing?" Geez, no wonder Welsh was such a grump today.  Turnbull must
be hysterical over this.

Fraser shook his head.  "It's more than that, Ray," he explained. "Certainly,
it was a great loss for Canada, and for curling, and I grieve that but..."

He seemed to have trouble coming up with the words he wanted to say.
Ray put an arm around his waist, leading him over to the couch.  He settled
Fraser down comfortably, and sat beside him, pulling him into his arms,
holding him tightly.  Fraser tensed for a second, then buried his face
into Ray's shoulder. 

"She had cancer, Ray.  Nothing to fight, nothing to avoid, nothing to
cure." His grip on Ray tightened. "She was thirty-six years old!"

Ray was beginning to understand.  "Is that what's bothering you?" he
asked, and felt Fraser nod.

"She was your age, Ray, and younger than me." 

Ray's mind raced. "You said it yourself, Ben.  Death's just a part of
life." 

He was absolutely shocked to hear Fraser's ironic snort. "That was before
I fell in love with you, Ray.  Now anything that could separate us has
become absolutely the worse part of life." 

He took another trembling breath, and whispered, "I can't lose you, Ray.
I can't live without you." 

Ray felt a certain moisture in his own eyes. "Geez, Ben, you think I'm
goin' anywhere?"

"You might not have a choice, Ray." Fraser answered, anguish apparent
in his voice.

Ray sighed. "Yer right, Ben. I might not.  We could both live to be a
hundred and two, or one of us might get hit by a car tomorrow.  But you
know what, Fraser?"  He waited until his lover's face lifted to meet
his gaze.  "I don't care.  I've had over a year with you as my friend,
and seven incredible months with you as my lover.  I could literally
die happy now, 'cause I've had you in my life. Not that I want to, Ben;
and I sure as hell don't want you to, either. So let's just... let's
just, you know, make the most outa the time we have left."

Fraser stared at his lover in wonder.  Would this man ever cease to amaze
him?  "You're absolutely right, Ray," he said, bringing his lips down
to brush against Ray's.  After a moment, he drew back far enough to say,
"You are the most wonderful, most important, most beloved thing in my
life, Ray, and I intend to spend the rest of my days showing you how
true that is. I won't waste any more time thinking about losing you,
when you're right here with me."

Smiling eyes met, followed quickly by lips, and chests, as Fraser kept
his promise to show Ray just how precious he really was.

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