Disclaimer: Alliance owns everyone here, except for the priest. Not making
any money, blah, blah, blah.  I'm just playing with them. 

Didn't have it proof read , so all mistakes are my own.  It's a late
Christmas story that's been sitting around on my computer collecting
dust. 

PG-13 for violence, h/c

Please give this story a chance. It has a happy ending. I promise. 

If the Fates Allow
By
Rae
*********************

Christmas Eve:

It all happened in the space of 4 and 1/2 seconds, but it seemed like
a full lifetime.  Ben had gone over that number so many times in his
head. So many times.  4 and 1/2 seconds was enough time to change the
outcome. He had been slow in reacting. Slow. Too slow.  He heard Lieutenant
Welsh somewhere in this dimly lighted room telling him that it wasn't
his fault.  It all happened too fast. There was nothing anyone could
have done.  But that wasn't true. 4 and 1/2  seconds was enough time
to change a life. 



"I'll just be a second.", Ray Kowalski said as he shut the door of his
beloved GTO. "Sit here. Don't move." Constable Benton Fraser glanced
over his partner's shoulder at the large building that housed the Trenton
Architectural Firm. "You're sure you don't want me to go in with you?"
Ray frowned, leaning in through the open window. "Look, no offense, Frase,
but last time you decided to have a chit-chat with a mobster, you ended
up getting your ass kicked. Let me handle these guys." "How can you be
sure that they are mobsters, Ray?", he asked reasonably. "'Cause this
is Chicago, this is  the big city. Everybody knows what they are and
what they're doing, but no one can make a case against them." "Except
for you?", the Mountie asked with a mildly condescending tone. Kowalski,
whether he did not catch it or simply chose to ignore it, grinned and
replid, "Exactly." He straightened and pulled his jacket tighter around
his slender form. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Stay out of trouble."
He lowered his head to look his partner in the eye. "I mean it." Ben
smiled. "Understood." 

 
 The Mountie sighed and looked at his watch. 9:31AM. He glanced back
up to see Ray waiting at the crosswalk.  When the detective had picked
him up from the Consulate, the detective had asked if he would mind swinging
by the Trenton Building. Ben had said that he did not mind. That was
not entirely true. He *did* mind.  Why today? There was a feeling within
him. Something just....like butterflies in his stomach.  A nervous, edgy
feeling of foreboding. Why today? Ray was the one who had said he wanted
a peaceful Christmas this year. Not like last year where he had gone
out of his mind thinking about how close he had come to loosing Fraser.
'Not like last year. This year, it will be just us. Partners.'  Ben smiled
at the thought. Ray always had a way of making him feel....wanted. And
loved.  He loved his partner, too, but neither one could ever vocalize
that affection.  There really was no need.  There are some things that
don't need to be said. They were simply known. Fraser mused over this
and unconsciously glanced at his watch again. 9:32AM.  He had lost his
train of thought. It annoyed him, just alittle, that after Ray had nagged
him so about having a peaceful Christmas that his partner would want
to stop here and talk with 'mobsters'. He sighed deeply and looked up
in time to see Ray open the door and disappear inside the Trenton building.
/9hours 32min. and 12 seconds./  Ben  ran his fingers through his sable
locks. /9 hours 32min. and 13seconds/  The feeling was worse now, making
him almost nauseous. /9hours 32min and 14seconds /  He slumped in his
seat, grimacing. / 9hours 32min and 15sec/  The explosion set off an
aftershock that shattered the windows of the GTO and every car and office
near it. Fraser was pitched forward, his forehead striking the dashboard.
A sharp pain shot through his head as he struggled to remain conscious.
Across the street, flames rose skyward from Trenton building. "Ray...",
he murmured before falling into the dark.



 The building had been leveled, completely destroyed by the explosion.
There were few survivors, most of whom would not survive a week.  Harding
Welsh looked at the young man who sat across from him. The Mountie took
small, even sips from the mug he held in his trembling hands. He was
far away, eyes wide, focused on something that only he could see. The
older man sighed, licking his lips nervously as he tried to think of
something to say. The silence, especially from Fraser, was unnerving.
"Ben." There was no change in the other man's expression, no hint that
he had heard. "Ben." Still nothing.
"Ben!" Slowly, Fraser looked up.
"Sir?", he whispered. Welsh sighed again.
"Ben....would you, uh, would you care to talk?" For a moment the younger
man didn't answer and then, as if drawn from a trance, he shook his head.
"I'm sorry?" Harding sat back.
"Fraser, I would like you to talk to our department  psychologist. Would
you be willing to do that?" "As you wish, sir.", he replied. The Mountie's
expression was still haunting and blank, devoid of any emotion. 


*


He walked through the city aimlessly, eyes to the ground. Images of Ray
were branded in his mind, so that he saw nothing else. Flames. Everything
was on fire. He was alone. How could he have not seen it? 4 and 1/2 seconds.
Enough time. Not enough time. Enough time to change 52 lives. Enough
time to end Ray's life and to destroy his own. Tidings of comfort and
joy.  And this was all there was. Life and death. The circle. Something
must die so something else can live. A child was being born as Ray was
dying. Death even on this day. Good will. There was so much guilt. And
he deserved it. Every painful prickle. 

"Are you alright, son?" Ben looked up. An elderly priest with thinning
white hair stood over him. "Where am I?", Fraser asked absently. He sat
on the stone steps of a church, though he could not recall actually making
conscious decision to stop here. "St. Micheal's. Are you lost?" Fraser
stared at the cross that hung around the old man's neck. "May I....confess?",
he asked. The priest nodded.
"Of course. Come in.", he said, gesturing to the large oak doors of the
church. 

Ben sat inside the confessional, hearing Ray's laughter echoing within
those confining wooden walls. The window slid up open then and the old
man said, "What sins do you have to confess, son?" Fraser took a deep
breath, trying to block out the laughter. "I killed my partner.", he
murmured.
"I'm sorry?" The priest's voice was low and guarded.
"The building....that exploded today, the Trenton building? My partner
was in that building." For a moment the old man was silent. "I see. Did
you know there was a bomb in that building, my son?", he asked. "No."
"Then how did you kill your partner?"
"I had a bad feeling.....instinct. My partner lived on instinct.......but
I-- I have always believed in logic. I have always believed that all
things......." Fraser sighed. "I didn't tell him. I didn't argue. I.....just
let him go." Ben closed his eyes. Ray's face would not leave his vision,
the laughter still rang in his ears. "I don't know how to ask for his
forgiveness." "There is nothing to forgive. You did not kill your partner.
It was God's will." That set of a spark in the Mountie. "God's will?",
he asked incredulously, "It was God's will that 52 people die on Christmas
Eve?" A veil of darkness seemed to cover him then and he could not see.
It was too dark. He tried to stand, but hands pinned him in place. The
priest's voice was now distant. And Ray was laughing. "---we cannot understand
the Lord's reasons, my son. But--" Ben stumbled out of the confessional.
He was suffocating. The pews seemed to be drawing together and walls
were shrinking inward. He could hear the priest calling to him even as
he made his way outside into the cold night. 

The park. The only place he had here that reminded him of home. Ray had
always chastised him for walking through the park alone at night. What
did it matter now? He didn't care anymore. As he walked, the Mountie
hoped that anyone, any killer, mugger or psycho would jump from the shadows
and take his life. Anything to make this terrible guilt go away. In his
mind, he repeated again and again all those things he should have said
to his partner and never did. All those things left unsaid. "I love you,
Ray.", he murmured into the night. He had never said that to Kowalski.
Why? Because it wasn't manly. It would mean admitting he had emotions.
Couldn't do that, could he? Ben sighed deeply. Ray.  Wrapped up in his
thoughts, Fraser took no note of where he was walking and stepped on
an icy patch near a narrow slope that led under the park bridge. He hadn't
a split second to realize his error, before he slipped and tumbled down
to the cold concrete below. His head struck the ground with a loud crack
and everything went black. 

When Ben came to he was still lying at the bottom of the slope. His head
ached and swam when he tried to raise it. He sat up slowly and massaged
his aching arm. The stones had torn through his uniform and there was
a dried cut  just above the elbow. Ben picked himself and climbed back
up the slope. He walked through the city as he had eariler, paying no
attention to where he went, only struggling to expel the once joyful
memories that were now only too painful. 

When he finally looked up he found himself in front of Ray's apartment
building. Strangely, there was a light in the window of his friend's
apartment and a silhouette of a person moving around. Ben moved up the
stairs clumsily, to exhausted to take caution. He stood for a moment
at the door, listening. Soft music played inside, so familiar. He had
started to the turn the knob, when the door suddenly flew open. Ray stood
in front of him, fully dressed, as if he were about to go out. Ben stared
at the blond in shock, unable to speak. This was not the case for Ray,
however. "Where the hell have you been, Frase?", he demanded angrily.
"I was about to go lookin' for yer. Yer said yer were going out for 10
minutes. That was..." He looked at his watch. "four hours ago!" Ben leaned
against the doorframe. "Y-You're---I-I saw you die." Ray's brow furrowed
in confusion.
"Huh?", he asked.
"T-the building exploded and, uh.....You're alive." Kowalski took a step
closer to the Mountie and saw the blood on the other man's uniform and
face. "Jeez, Fraser. Somebody rough you up?" He took  his partner by
the hand and tugged him gently inside the apartment. Ben stared his friend,
still unable to comprehend that Ray was here with him. "Sit." The detective
sat him down on the couch and took a seat beside him. He unbuttoned the
tunic and slid it over Fraser's shoulders. He ran his fingers carefully
over his partner's arms chest and head, searching out the injuries. There
was a cut above Fraser's left elbow, another on his palm and a bruise
that was fanning out around the area where he had hit his head, but nothing
too serious. Kowalski sighed. "Well, yer got smacked in the head pretty
good." Ridiculous. The last thing Fraser said to him was 'I'm going for
a walk. I'll be back in ten minutes'. Four hours later he comes back
looking like he called George Foreman a pansy. "Ya gonna tell me what
happened?",he asked, still examing his friend's wounds. Ben was still
looking at him with a haunted expression, as if seeing him for the first
time. Truth be told, Kowalski found this particularly unnerving. "Fraser,
what is going on?" Ben reached out, stroking Ray's face gently. The intimacy
of the gesture was the last thing in the world Kowalski expected from
his ususally restrained partner and it caused him to shudder. "Uh, Frase....?"
"I fell....hit my head. I must--I must have been dreaming." Understanding.
"You blacked out.", he guessed.
"I had a dream. You were.....kil--died---in an explosion. I thought you
died." Ray sighed, somewhat relieved. That explained the strange behavior.
"It was just a freaky dream, yer freak. C'mon let's get yer cleaned up."
He started to get up, but Ben caught his hand. Ray watched his partner
curiously. "What's up, Ben? I'm alive,o.k?" Ben said nothing, but his
gaze never left Ray. "Don't look at me like that, it's freakin' me out.",
the detective said, sitting down again. Fraser looked at his partner.
Alive. All this, that he had taken for granted. "Ray, I...." He sighed.
Why was this so hard? In his dream, after Ray's death he would have told
him without hesitation what he felt, how precious his partner was to
him. But, now... "I've never told how important you are to me, have I?"
Ray's expression of concern bordered with amusement. "Ya know, maybe
ya hit your head alittle harder than yer thought. I should probably take
you to the Emergency room--" "No. No. Please listen. In my dream, I didn't
understand...I didn't realize how much I needed you until after you died.
I don't want that to happen. You are so...precious to me, Ray. My partner,
my brother, my best friend. I love you and I should not have been so
ashamed to admit that." Ray looked at the Moutie, unsure what to make
of this. There was a kind of sorrow and isolation in his friend's eyes
he had never seen before. Whatever this dream Ben had had, he had sincerely
believed his partner to be dead. Ray brushed the bruise on his friend's
face with the back of his hand. "I know's hard for ya to express stuff
like that. I understand. Ya haven't got anything to be ashamed of, partner.
I love you, too and I know how ya feel about, o.k.? I just know.", he
murmured, blushing with those words. He moved closer to Ben and put his
arms around him. Fraser melted against his friend. He could hear the
beating of the smaller man's heart and he lost himself in the comfort
of that sound.  Kowalski felt a strong hand slide around the back of
his neck and he turned his head so it now rested on Fraser's broad shoulder.
"Merry Christmas, Ben.", he whispered softly. Fraser tightened his embrace.
"Merry Christmas, Ray."

The End