The Open Door

By Jennifer (jeneralmax@aol.com or wndhvrno60@aol.com)

Rating: R for a little bit of potty mouth.

Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski, Episode related-A Likely Story

Disclaimer: I don't own Ray and Ben... if I did, well, no need to go there. So I must give Paul Haggis and Alliance Atlantis their due.

Notes: It's been a while since I've been on this horse so to speak, so I might be a little cold. Dug this out from an outline I did at last years Con.

Summary: God, I hate summaries. This is one of those, realization pieces.

"I'm sorry about Miss Russell, Ray," Fraser stated firmly as he poked at the fire with a long stick. He could tell by looking at his partner that he was thinking about her and their inauspicious ending.

"S'ok, Fraser. I guess I wasn't thinkin' with my head much, ya know? There's this beautiful woman and she wants me, of all people."

"Why not you, Ray?"

"There ain't much to me, Frase. I mean, skinny ass, hair with a mind of its own. I'm definitely no Einstein."

"Why do you do that, Ray?"

"Do what, Fraser?"

"Put yourself down that way. Where does that come from?"

Ray sighed heavily, looking down at his hands fumbling with the hem of his jacket. "Years of practice, Fraser."

Fraser frowned, clearly troubled by the resignation he heard in his partner's voice. He knew Ray had skeletons in his closet. He knew Stella had done untold damage to his already fragile ego. It was the moment and the tone of Ray's voice that made Fraser decide to open that door. "Ray, when you think of me, what comes to mind?"

Ray glanced at his partner, sitting there, looking serious and a little worn. "Of you, Frase?" Ray sloppily shrugged his shoulders. 'Why is he askin' that question? I thought this conversation was about me, selfish prick that I am. What do I think of Fraser, my partner and my one true friend? I think about how I almost left him and it makes me sick all over. I think of the Henry Allen and that damned kiss. I think of all the ways he's risked our necks and how, no matter what, we come out clean. I think that now, even if it had worked out with Luanne... even if Fraser felt even one bit of what I feel for him...'

"Ray. Ray. RAY."

Ray stared blankly at his friend. He blinked several times at the sound of Fraser's voice saying his name before he finally cleared his throat. "You're the best of all of us, Fraser."

Fraser shook his head. Of course he had always tried to hold himself to certain standards. Standards set forth by his mother, or what he remembered of her. Standards set forth by his father, the RCMP, and most recently, the two men known as Ray Vecchio. But he never wanted to be seen as something more than he was... and he was just a man.

"Why do you say that?" Fraser asked sadly.

"Because you believe in things, Fraser. Things that're bigger than you. Things that you can't see or touch but you know they're there and you keep reachin' for'em. You believe in people... even when no one else does." Ray's voice trailed away. He stood up, leaving their campfire, to hide his face and the deep sadness that rested there. He couldn't let Fraser see him now. Couldn't let Fraser see how much he really needed him.

"Do you mean you, Ray?" Fraser asked quietly. He wished he could read his partner better, the way he had read the real Ray Vecchio. He wished this Ray didn't hide, as Fraser knew he, himself, did. He knew there were bundles of emotions they needed to explore... that they needed to release.

"I mean everyone, Fraser," Ray muttered. "But me mostly."

"Why wouldn't I believe in you, Ray? You've never given me reason not to."

"Volpe." His voice broke at the mere memory of the asylum Fraser had offered him during that time. It tore him up to remember how Fraser had been the only person he knew to turn to. He remembered bursting into the Consulate and falling to his knees, calling for him. Calling for him like he had in so many of his dreams.

"You didn't kill Volpe."

"But you didn't know that." Ray spun on his heel and faced the Mountie, who was still squatting before the fire. The light from the flames danced across his face in glorious hues of red and orange. And Ray knew in his soul that there was nothing more beautiful than Fraser.

"I did know, Ray." Fraser said solidly. "I just knew."

Ray sighed at the conviction in the Mountie's voice. "Why didn't ya leave, Fraser? Go back to Canada while ya had the chance."

"I could ask you the same question, Ray." Fraser replied, almost indignantly.

"Yeah, but I'm askin' you."

Fraser reflected for a moment or perhaps two, he wasn't quite sure. The Henry Allen. He remembered how frantic he was when the boat was sinking and Ray was missing. He had remembered telling the captain that he could not leave his partner... the very partner who was more than willing to leave him behind... just like Victoria and just like Ray Vecchio. The very partner, who in the chilly waters of Lake Superior had begun his ascent to the great unknown until he, Fraser, for one gloriously selfish moment had pressed his mouth to his and gave him breath... gave him life. And when all was said and done, Ray had asked him, "...nothing's changed?"

He wanted nothing more than to scream, 'Yes Ray! Yes! Everything has changed. Please don't leave me!' But rather than risk his heart, he simply said no, nothing had changed. And although Ray had looked somewhat disappointed, the moment had come and gone... and Fraser reverted back to the good old reliable Mountie.

"Sometimes," Fraser began, wanting to choose his words carefully. He didn't want to reveal too much but he didn't want to give Ray any reason to retreat any further into himself either. "Sometimes, you find something in your life that's perfect. Something that is so incredibly right that you just don't see it because it's masked by factors that are so common, so ordinary-"

"Fraser, whoa, whoa," Ray interrupted his partner by extending his arms forward stretching his palms out. "What the heck are you talkin' about?"

Fraser finally stood and approached Ray slowly. "I didn't leave for selfish reasons, Ray. I didn't leave because I needed to stay here... with you."

Ray closed his eyes. 'Did he just say that? Did he really say he needed to stay here with me? Me? Stanley Kowalski, the Chicago flatfoot with the experimental hair?' Opening his eyes, Ray faced the Mountie once again. "Don't say things like that, cuz it just ain't funny, Fraser."

Fraser stepped back, his friend's voice low and lacking its usual verve. "Well, why didn't you take it, Ray?"

"That's not the point, Fraser. And you know it."

"No, Ray. It is the point. Something made you stay just as much as it did me."

"Fraser,"

"Ray," Fraser refused to relent. He had come this far, too far to turn back now.

"I didn't want to start over again," Ray mumbled, giving in. "And that's it. I'm kinda used to this life."

"This is Ray Vecchio's life, Ray. Ray Vecchio's job. Ray Vecchio's family-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know Fraser," Ray shouted, his ire rising with Fraser's every word. "It's Ray Vecchio's partner too. I know. I've known for a long time. And I know he's gonna come back and he's gonna take my job, my family, my partner... my life! Dontcha think I know that! Dontcha think I've tried to get used to that! That I've told myself day in and day out, 'Don't do it, Ray. Yer too close, Ray. Yer too comfortable here, Kowalski! I have to use my name, my real time so I don't forget... so that I remember who I am. The one nobody wants."

Fraser's eyes narrowed but his features softened. Then the words, "I want you, Ray."

"Look Fraser, I don't want yer pity. I don't need ya to feel sorry for me and stick around cuz you think I need ya or somethin'."

Fraser kept his gaze on Ray, even though it hurt to look at him. "So, you're saying you don't need me, Ray?"

Ray stopped and considered the Mountie, standing there bearing his soul to him. "Of course I need you, Fraser. What the hell did you think? Did you think I could walk away after what happened?"

"What happened?"

'Oh God,' Ray thought. 'Please don't tell me he forgot. Please don't do this to me.'

"Buddy breathing." Ray whispered.

Fraser felt his spirits soar. It was requited. All of it... since then.

Ray continued. "I know you said it didn't change anything but-"

"It changed everything, Ray!" Fraser cut him off excitedly. "But I was afraid. Afraid that you didn't see it that way. Afraid you'd slug me again. Oh God, Ray," Fraser went to his friend and pulled him into his arms.

Ray accepted Fraser's embrace, feeling the wool of the Mountie's coat scratching his chin. Then Fraser's mouth was at his ear and he could feel his breath, warm and steady. His steady Mountie.

"All this time, Fraser," Ray choked. "You've felt like this all this time?"

"And more, Ray."

"Since when, Frase?"

"Since Janet Morse left us."

Ray pulled back just enough so he could face his partner. "Whaddya mean?"

"When she left, you were there. And I realized you were always there. It wasn't until I almost lost you on the Henry Allen that I accepted it as it was."

Ray considered Fraser again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid, Ray."

"You? Benton Fraser, Super Mountie, afraid?"

"I'm not Super Mountie, Ray, and yes I have fears."

"Wow."

"Plus, how could I believe for a minute that you would reciprocate those kinds of feelings? We don't exactly work in an environment where this is widely accepted. In addition to that, you always make advances on women. Just yesterday and today, as a matter of fact, with Miss Russell."

Ray nodded. "Call it denial, Fraser. Call it anyway to fill in that damned empty space between my head and the rest of me. As shitty as that may sound."

"Language, Ray."

He saw Fraser smile and finally, Ray felt one of his own spread across his lips. "Language, right. Crappy as that may sound."

"So, I really had nothing to worry about?"

"I wouldn't say that, Frase. If I had gotten lucky..."

"Ray!"

Ray laughed, his usual energy returning.

"That isn't very funny, Ray." Fraser pouted playfully.

"Sure, it is. You shoulda seen yer face!" He continued to laugh as Fraser grinned.

"Yes," Fraser gave in. "I suppose it may have been."

Ray shook his head and moved towards their makeshift campsite. "Let's get this cleaned up and get outta here."

"Right you are, Ray," Fraser said hopping to the cleanup. "Right you are."

End