Title: Reaction

Author: necessary angel

Pairing: BF/RK

Rating: G

Spoilers: For "Burning down the House".

Summary/notes: I was watching BDTH again for the first time in ages the other day and this leapt into my head. It picks up directly after the tag scene. This is just one version of what might have occurred at that first dinner. A big thank you to Megan for swift and incisive beta.

This one's for Maxine.

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Reaction

by necessary angel

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His father had, thankfully, vanished before the man now using the name of Ray Vecchio came out of the 27^th Precinct. Fraser straightened away from the pool car that had been requisitioned in place of the Riveria and watched him approach with the fascination he had been unable to shake all day. This "Ray" was moving fast, as he had been since Fraser had stirred him into motion with another man's name

His friend's name.

Fraser clamped down on the swirl of anger that thought induced. It was hardly this stranger's fault that the real Ray Vecchio had left in the manner he had. He had to get a handle on the name business. It was ridiculous to keep thinking in these awkward terms. He took a deep breath.

This man was Ray Vecchio.

Fraser shook himself.

A new Ray Vecchio, a clean slate so to speak. The idea was appealing and curiously liberating.

The thin blond man was standing by the driver's door, staring at him with eyebrows raised. He was evidently waiting for an answer. He grinned and tapped his long fingers on the roof of the car.

"Earth to Fraser. Fraser!"

"I am sorry. I was..."

"On another planet." His wink was more tease than anything Fraser had ever seen before in his life, or at least it seemed that way. "All I asked was where you wanted to go to eat?"

Dief barked softly and Fraser nodded in reply. "Yes, that's a very good idea. How about Gino's?"

"Ray" shot him a sceptical look. "Did the wolf... never mind, I really don't want to know. Gino's it is." He opened the car and settled himself inside, leaving Fraser to follow suit.

**********

His companion was quiet on the brief drive to the restaurant. He seemed disinclined to continue any of the few desultory attempts at conversation that Fraser made. It was a relief, in a way. Dief was asleep in the back of the car. Fraser settled back in his seat and allowed himself to indulge in the speculation that had been besetting him since that unsettling conversation with Lieutenant Welsh.

It was hard to see why they had chosen this particular man to replace Ray Vecchio, at least physically. Both men were lean, tall - although the real Ray Vecchio was perhaps a shade taller and similar in age, as far Fraser could estimate. But there, all resemblance stopped. Although appearance wasn't everything, there must have been a reason why the Chicago Police Department had chosen a man quite so disparate in looks from the man they wanted to replace.

He was a good policeman; Fraser knew that from their day's work. It had been quite an experience. Following the leaps and turns of this stranger's mind as he had unearthed Zoltan Motherwell's name from whatever information he had been supplied with had been beguiling. Watching him interview the incarcerated arsonist, well, it had been a performance, that was the only word for it. A masterful one, backed up by solid police work.

A one-two punch indeed.

A revealing choice of metaphor; Fraser made a note of it. Any scrap of information he could glean was to his advantage.

Except that it took more than good police work to take on an assignment of this nature. It took more than a certain amount of skill at manipulation and deceit. There was no reason at all why that should bother him quite so much. The man was doing his job, his duty, that was all. Fraser swallowed, but his throat was still dry as he followed "Ray", and Dief, into the quiet dark confines of the restaurant.

The waiter had taken their order before enlightenment struck him. "Ray" had tried to tell him the truth, had told him the truth in fact. That Fraser hadn't heard him was beside the point. He sighed and tried to not notice quite how relieved and comforted he felt at the realization.

Dief whined from his position under the table. Fraser nudged him with his foot and the wolf settled with a low grumble. His lupine companion had reacted with unabashed enthusiasm to the new version of Ray Vecchio. That was undoubtedly a mark in the man's favour.

"It's okay, you know." "Ray" spoke softly, not quite meeting Fraser's gaze.

"I am afraid I don't know what you mean."

Fraser rubbed his eyebrow and frowned. He hadn't expected this. He wasn't at all sure what he had expected this dinner to reveal, if anything. He had issued the invitation with the idea of starting things on the right footing. He had been reluctant to leave things as they were, and Lieutenant Welsh's words had only strengthened his curiosity about this man. The smile that had greeted his invitation had made it seem all the more the right thing to have done. But now, as had been true for most of the day, he had no idea what the other man was thinking, despite his companion's open, expressive face.

"It's your choice whether you stay with the game or not." "Ray" put down the fork he was fidgeting with and looked up. His eyes were hooded slightly, but he met Fraser's gaze squarely.

"I am the liaison officer..."

"Not that... not that. Though we could work around it." "Ray" waved his hands and took a deep breath. His mouth quirked but it wasn't a smile. "I meant the whole friendship thing. You and me are meant to be pretty tight, but we can fix that."

Fraser stared at him. He swallowed but he couldn't find the words, any words. The twisted feeling in his stomach, which had been there most of the day, seemed to be rising through his chest. Oddly, he wasn't surprised at the depth of feeling his companion's suggestion had induced. Part of it was anger that this man could read him so easily. Fraser wasn't at all accustomed to being so exposed; this man had taken one look and known him.

That was unsettling, and more than a little unnerving.

He had been off kilter since he had walked down the alley and seen the remains of his apartment building. His whole life had flipped and shifted and twisted into a new pattern in a matter of hours. It had been by turns disturbing, frustrating, and oddly alluring, and quite definitely exhilarating.

"... just think about it, huh? It'd be more convincing if we staged a break sooner rather than later...."

Fraser frowned, as the arrival of their food interrupted "Ray's" flow of words. It was almost uncanny. His relationship with the real Ray Vecchio would have undoubtedly changed on his return to Chicago. Their unsatisfactory phone call had told him that much, although he had known what was coming before he had left on his vacation. The breathing space had been necessary; a requirement for both of them if anything was to be salvaged. So this suggestion was close to what might have been.

Except that it was no longer necessary. No longer what Fraser wanted at all.

"Well?" "Ray" had stopped picking at his risotto and was watching him with a faint frown.

"That won't be necessary. I want to do all that I can to maintain appearances."

"Great. That's greatness." The words were all that they should be but the smile didn't reach "Ray's" pale eyes.

Fraser cursed himself. His choice of words had been clumsy. He was more out of sorts than he had realized. That, however, was hardly his companion's fault.

"I meant that I would be delighted to work with you and to...."

"Look, Fraser, I know it would be work and that's okay. That's what I do. I'm used to it." His smile was softer this time and did reach those chameleon eyes. Fraser might have missed the flash of pain if he hadn't been looking quite so carefully. "If the rest of it is anything like today then it definitely won't be dull." Another wink, and the smile slid into the wickedest grin Fraser had ever seen, even from this man.

"Which reminds me, I never thanked you," Fraser said. His penne al salmone was cooling rapidly, but he had very little appetite in any case.

"For what?" Ray paused, with his fork half way to his mouth.

"Stepping in front of that bullet."

"I was wearing a vest, you weren't." Ray shrugged and resumed eating.

"Nevertheless, thank you."

"S'what partners do, Fraze. And that's what we are, a duet. Now eat."

His father had been quite right. This was a good man. The only question that remained was just who was he, really.

There were ways of finding that out.

End.