If You'll Have Me


"So. We still partners?"

"If you'll have me."

I shrug and we're off. Off to save the world from bad guys, me and the Mountie. But I'm thinking, If I'll have him? Like he doesn't know I'm on my knees inside? Like he doesn't know how much I need him? Like he doesn't know how much it hurt when Vecchio showed up, and he started treating me like a bald stepchild or somethin'?

But maybe he doesn't know I'm on my knees inside. Maybe he doesn't know how much I need him or how much it hurt. I'm not good at this. It's like pulling teeth, and the last time I said something like that... Well, thank God for no-fault divorce. At least we didn't have a house or kids to fight over. I wouldn't have fought anyway.

But if I don't tell him... I mean, he's no mind-reader, right? Even if he is a near-perfect walking encyclopedia... Fraser's not always too clued in with people.

But then again, maybe he is. I mean, I thought for sure he was going to go down for Ladyshoes. Thought for sure he was hooked and ready for reelin'. But he wasn't. He really had her number.

But, no, that's not somethin' I can count on -- him just "knowing" how I feel. I gotta say something. I gotta make it known to him. I mean, maybe he does know... but I'll never know unless I ask. God. If I ask... what if he didn't mean "if you'll have me", as in "always"? What if he only meant, if I'd have him for now? Until Vecchio's all healed and out of the hospital, and then it's 'sayonara, Ray'? I don't know if I could take that.

Goddamn that Vecchio. Waltzes back into his job and life, and I'm not even ready. But that's fine, okay, I can deal with that... if that was *all* it was. But Fraser too? Goddammit. I can accept that I shouldn'ta got so comfortable pretending to be him. But Fraser's not supposed to be part of the equation. If I have to lose everything else, fine. But not Fraser too.

------------------------------------------

"So. We still partners?"

Oh, God. Oh, dear. Oh, Ray. My Ray. I've been so thoughtlessly cruel. I've been -- there's no time. I'll make it up to you, Ray. I swear. It's all over with Ray, my other, the other, the real Vecchio-- anyways, it's been over for some time. I knew that, but I didn't want to face it. But I can see it in his face, hear it in his voice.

He doesn't know about us. I don't think it would matter if he did, though. It's over for him. It's been over. That's why he left, I'm sure of it. Oh, he hasn't actually said that. He hasn't spoken those words. But it's plain as day. It was bound to happen, I guess. He was never that comfortable with it in the first place -- always looking over his shoulder. He could never relax. Worrying what would happen if people found out. Especially his family. His mother. Spending the night -- for the most part, out of the question. A stake-out is one thing for all night... in bed with your male partner quite another. Long, luxurious hours of laying in bed -- that was a rare event with Ray. But I don't blame him for that.

Unlike with you, Ray. Every time -- we lose track of time. You have no trouble relaxing. Don't require any alcohol to lower your inhibitions. The word 'inhibited' is, apparently, absent from your vocabulary. I lost track of the hours with you. Endless hours. At least, you've never been inhibited with me. You said, 'I'll try anything once'. Bravado, I thought to myself at the time, the bravado of a jealous and heart-broken man. But you've showed me... how you really will try anything once. 'Twice, if I like it,' you said that first time, and then you winked. And I blushed.

"If you'll have me."

It's the best I can do right now, in this public place, to express my shame at the way I've treated him, without (as they say) letting the cat out of the bag. I don't care for myself -- they already think I'm as bizarre as an alien. Although, truth be told, I imagine Inspector Thatcher would be none too nice to me if my cat were let out of the bag. She's not a spiteful woman... but neither is she non-jealous, as experiences with Janet the bounty hunter showed...

But I can't let Ray's cat out of the bag. He might still have some investment in appearing to be, as he used to say, a "stud" with women. Doubtful, but I haven't asked, so I don't know for certain. At the very least, he might need it as a 'cover story' for the two of us. And it isn't really my place to reveal Ray's personal information to the world.

So the best I can do right now is, 'If you'll have me'. My thoughts are racing. I've got to get a grip-- breathe, breathe. Calm yourself.

The slightest hesitation, and then he shrugs, looking away, and we turn to go. There's no time right now. If there were, I'd grasp him by the arms and look him in the face and tell him it's not what he thinks. That I felt I owed Ray. For making me feel a part of things when I very much felt I was not. For making a place in his heart for me. For making a place in his family for me, even though they could never know about us. Those first couple of years were... difficult. Ray made them easier. He was and always will be a good friend. The rest -- what happened, happened. It wasn't meant to be.

This, this, Ray, my Ray-with-the-hair-up, Ray-with-the-glasses, "do-you-find-me-attractive"-Ray -- this is meant to be. You gave-- you gave-- all of you. Without question. Without hesitation. With complete trust. I'll show you, Ray. For every moment of doubt I see on your face until we get through this, Ray, I'll show you how much it's meant to be... and how much it's meant to me.

--------------------------------

Being his partner has certain drawbacks... Yeah, right. Am I a sucker, or what? All he has to do is look at me with those innocent eyes, and I waver and fall. I must be spineless or something. I should be mad. I should be pissed as hell!! I just can't be.

Oh, it hurts. Yeah. "Ow" doesn't even begin to express it. I should change that hurt into anger. But I can't do that now -- we've got a job to do. I probably won't do it later. I've never been really good at that. Wouldn't mind sockin' it to Vecchio in the head, tho'. Just once. Got close that time in the precinct, before Frannie broke us up.

But then, it isn't his fault, either. At least now I know who the other guy was: it was him. I knew there was one. I knew there was someone who'd froze over Fraser's heart. I thought it was the bomb-dropping bitch from Alaska, at first. But no. At least, not the most recent bomber.

In the beginning... the first time I-- the way he said my name when-- It was like he was saying my name, but not talking to me. What the hell do I know? I always think only a Looney Tunes Acme anvil can clue me in on some stuff. His hands are tight in my hair, I'm on my knees, I'm looking up... His eyes are squeezed shut, he's coming like a stallion, and he's saying "Ray".

I had a hunch, but I told myself I was being my usual paranoid, insecure self. That of course he was talking to me. Dammit, I shoulda trusted that instinct. Because it was right.

So, I should smack Vecchio for this, for all of this... If he hadn't done that to Fraser... If Fraser hadn't been so obviously longing, but frozen... If I hadn't been so lonely and confused... If he hadn't saved my ass with his mouth and breath--

Okay, so I can't blame all that on Vecchio. But if Vecchio hadn't--

But Fraser didn't have to--

Wait a minute. I should smack Fraser. That's who I should smack. All these damn talk shows, I see these stupid chicks fighting over some loser, and they pull each other's hair, maybe once in a while one clocks the other one in the head -- and it's like, what is wrong with you?

You're supposed to be clobbering him! He did it. No one can take someone away, unless that person wants to go. You could clobber "the other woman", but what good does that do? Maybe, just maybe, it stops her from takin' your man. Ain't gonna stop him from straying. After all, no one held a gun to his head. He did it of his own free will, right? So he might do it again. With someone else. So clobber him!

So yeah, I suppose I should smack Fraser, not Vecchio. I mean, it's Fraser who hadda do the stakeout with Vecchio and leave me with the Ice Queen. It's Fraser who made it so obvious where his heart lies in the hospital. I can't blame Vecchio (though the rotten bastard doesn't deserve Fraser after what he pulled, just up and disappearing on the guy). I mean, no one held a gun to Fraser's head, right?

Oh, the hell with it. I'm not gonna smack anyone. I'm just talkin' out my-- I guess he must feel pretty bad. The way he looked at me, when he said, "If you'll have me"... Looked like a dog that knows it's been bad. With that tail-between-the-legs look. Shit. Wish I could stay mad at him. But I can't. One thing I know about him is, he would never, ever do a thing like this on purpose. He musta thought Vecchio was never coming back. So I can't even really be mad at him. Dammit!

But all I can think is, does he really mean it?? "If you'll have me"... for how long? Just for now, not for very much longer? Or for ... forever? I mean, for however long it lasts? I'm not stupid, I know nothing lasts forever. I was just hoping for... longer than this.

I'm freezin' my ass off on the wing of a fuckin' prop plane for this crazy Canadian.

"If you'll have me." Isn't it obvious, Fraser?

I can't help it.

You have me.
 
 
 
 
 
 

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